Fate into Darkness
by c'estquatre
Summary: A series of oneshots about the pasts of each Servant from the 5th Holy Grail War.
1. Title

To bottlingfireflies-

Thank you for lending me one of your precious bottled up lights.

* * *

><p>Fate into Darkness

This is Tale,

a Tale of tales,

of heroes fated

to fade into darkness


	2. into Caster: don't Cry

into Caster: don't Cry

"_If people do not know their ugliness, so be it. They can stay ignorant, go to hell for their own crimes, and suffer forever. They won't be able to get out of hell. They will suffer forever as criminals because they do not know what crimes they have committed."_

_-Caster, Fate/stay n__ight _

Red was the sky, filled with carrion crows.

Red was the deck of the ship, slippery with blood,

blood whose owner she no longer recognized.

Red was the sea, a once calm blue, stained by lumps of meat, freshly slaughtered.

Red-Red-Red -Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-

Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-

Red-Red-Red -Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-

Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red-Red.

The color of her white virginal robe, stained, and now she understood that she would never again wear  
>that color. And a scarlet smear on her face, an unforgiving stain which one of her delicate lily hands<br>touched in disbelief. Like orbs her eyes widened filled with…

HATE

LOVE

REGRET.

She slowly turned and faced the Man that made her do this, her eyes filling with a sort of madness that  
>wanted, begged approval or even comfort.<p>

When she saw none, her red anemone stained hands loosened their grip on that wicked knife, which of c  
>ourse had been stained red as well<p>

- it dropped and stuck into a coagulating pool of redness.

Why did she drop the knife that she was holding so dearly?

Now she wanted nothing to do with it.

His eyes, the eyes of the one that orchestrated all this could no longer see her. What she now saw made  
>her shudder, lose control.<p>

She gripped her head. Her legs buckled and she fell splat into another pool of redness next to that sinful  
>dagger and raised her face towards the sky as if in prayer.<p>

A composed face, broken, and from any point of view it look as if she was weeping blood. She screamed  
>until even the crows that came to feast scattered, touched or frightened by her despair.<p>

Yet in the midst of all this He just stood and stared, not believing the situation that had unfolded before  
>His eyes…<p>

All the while the ship slowly rocked back and forth-

* * *

><p>The ship slowly rocked back and forth, that is what woke me. My eyes came from a flutter and then…<p>

[-]

The ship slowly rocked back and forth, that is what woke me. My eyes came from a flutter.

I looked down at the while sheets that covered my still half-awake body. I realized I was still wearing the  
>clothes I had on yesterday. I reached out to the side and found…<p>

WICKED

SIN

HATE

KILL

my dagger, unclean as the day I brought it into the world.

He never touched it, in fact none of the inhabitants of this floating house would touch it, half of them  
>never spoke to me and half of the remaining only spoke in one word of two.<p>

That was my punishment.

My purple gown as pretty yet was a shackle to me, after all I would never wear white again, not since  
>that da…<p>

A figure, no, it could not be called a figure, had be cut…

into 17 pieces and ( ) .

I shook my head. My eyes turning back to the instrument that ( ).

I slowly figured it delicately as if it was something precious; that disgusted me. Then with the snap of  
>my wrist I stowed it away, to let this ships inhabitants see my sin was…unforgiving at best. After all it<br>was something like me, simply unnatural.

Rule Breaker: Destroyer of all Marks

The very dagger, its wicked shape that ( ) .

I shook my head both to repress the memory and control the rising nausea.

After I ( ) He and I had gone to see Circe, my aunt, the woman who could forgive all sins, the woman  
>who also turned men into swine. She received us knowingly, but with ceremony. Ha, after all this was<br>atonement, not some family reunion. She asked how I cut into ( ) seventeen pieces with a knife, it  
>was obviously physically impossible, I explained with Him avoiding my gaze. She nodded as if nearly<br>napping, she already knew, was it her blood or the impossible amount of magic circuits that allowed her  
>to proclaim herself as a "sorceress." She looked at Him, not in a hostile way, no she could never look at<br>someone in a hostile way if she was truly the witch that forgave any man. However He flinched seeing  
>something in her eyes. It was not something magical; I was sure that she didn't have mystic eyes, so it<br>must have been the age old saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul. With no fuss she told me  
>to stab my hand, the hand that did the deed with the knife that had helped it. My eyes grew wide,<br>certainly she knew that this knife was a conceptual weapon, how else was it supposed to be able to cut  
>into seventeen pieces that I then threw into the sea, doing this would be…<p>

She told me it was atonement. He said I shouldn't do it, that knife being a sacrificial knife, a conceptual  
>weapon, it would definitely hurt me. It was at times like this I really believed that I loved this man, at<br>these times I really wanted to believe that, not it was not Aphrodite's son's arrows that gave me these  
>feelings, that I really believed at the bottom of my heart that these emotions were truly mine. So going<br>with that feeling I could not burden Him anymore… if this would rid my sin surely it must rid his part in it.  
>Taking the wicked dagger again in my hand I thrust it into my hand before I could hesitate or before this<br>warm feeling could escape me. It went through my hand. He looked at me shocked yet His eyes told me  
>He showed no such emotion. Circe just looked on as if in relief. The knife did not hurt, it merely<br>accepted the offering, it did not wreak my skin it merely accepted the sacrifice like a puppy lapping up a  
>hand. I then pulled the dagger own, it convulsed as if sick due to my wicked, sinful, evil blood. He was<br>truly shocked this time. Circe looked on with envy and wonder.

Circe then proclaimed my legend had been born… no I never wanted that, I just want to be back to who I  
>was.<p>

Please, don't change me into something I no longer recognize.

That was the day I had received my divine mystery, the day I knew that… I wasn't, human anymore. At  
>that point He and most of the crew looked at me differently, no longer a hate for killing my own<br>brethren, but fear at what I became, and all the while the ship slowly rocked back and forth.

* * *

><p>I smoothed the creases in my gown and put on my dark green shawl, the only thing I actually brought<br>from Colchis. I took the hood down and examined myself in the mirror, the same long, fair, pale face, I  
>never really did like the sun, after all I am a priestess of Hecate. My ears slightly tapered represented my<br>non-human blood. Some say it was due to my heritage from the sun god, maybe that explains the  
>abnormal amount of magic circuits in my family. Either way it was ironic that I didn't like the sun.<p>

I was moving up towards the deck, walking on a ship while it was rocking was, not steady at best.

On my path I spied the prize, the prize that took the death of a dragon, the Golden Fleece, the dragon  
>was one of the last of its race. I cannot use the Third Sorcery so I could not implant the soul of the<br>dragon in the Fleece, but I managed to implant some memory of it. To be fair the dragon was already on  
>its deathbed, and… No, I have no excuse for killing such a profound phantasm beast…<p>

Was that…my sin as well?

My motives were for self-gain, but at least I saved part of the dragon, now it can protect that  
>fleece…forever, yes, it was not a bad trade… But I cannot activate it, a dragon takes too much oda to<br>recreate, even with support from the Fleece's mana, the total prana needed is too high. Also a magus  
>never has enough oda to fully fill their capacity. Summoning is also not my forte, and even if I could<br>summon it she would end up something like a projection, it'd last longer as there is a basis, but it'd still  
>shatter in the end.<p>

I turned left, away from the treasury and away from the quarters of the Argonauts towards the stairs  
>that led to the deck, all the while the ship rocked back and forth.<p>

* * *

><p>Helios was bright today as any day, and the clouds… no they were not clouds, seagulls. Seagulls<br>only go out to sea to die that is why this meant that we were close to land.

I smiled faintly; finally the feel of dry land on my feet, yes land is where humans belong, not this rocking  
>ship.<p>

On that high note I surveyed the deck happy to find it sparsely populated, the figure that leapt out at me  
>first was the giant, Hercules, he looked almost docile will polishing his bow and arrows. We got along<br>well, because - I guess – we were of kin, he was half god and my aunt Circe was also half god, however  
>his relation gave him an affliction, the others called it madness, he saw things differently during those<br>times, it was as if he was burdened with the weight of the world, or a battle he was in replayed in his  
>mind over and over. He had confided to me that being close to his late wife helped this condition. I<br>simply guess that she had been one of the beings known as Synchronizers, however tragically he had  
>gone on a long campaign and when he returned home, it was bad enough that he killed her and their<br>children… That is unfair, all because he is Zeus' offspring not of Hera; therefore I wanted to help him. No,  
>I believed that if I helped a demigod like him, perhaps I would be able to save myself. However,<br>obviously I was no Synchronizer and even if I was I doubt I would be compatible with him. So my method  
>was simpler. When he was having a fit I would simply cut his consciousness. The human body is delicate<br>so I had to take great pains not to shut down any internal organs down. He was grateful for this, and  
>became to trust me. In a peculiar sense he was a "friend", a solitary, steady rock on this rocking ship.<br>He promised to give me refuge any time I needed it, I thanked him for it, but I do not believe I will need it.  
>After all I have Him, even if we are growing a bit apart; I think I'll trust Him.<p>

The ocean breeze billowed and I could taste the salt in the air.

I held my shawl closer to my body to protect myself from the odorous ocean spray; however I did so  
>reluctantly to pull my shawl was to cut my sense of hearing. To do so was to cut myself from listening to<br>a string of notes that came from a lyre that seemed blended into the breeze itself.

The notes came from another of the Argonauts, one of the very few that I would call "not my enemy."  
>Sitting by himself alone in a dark corner of the deck Orpheus the lyrist and beloved of Apollo was<br>stringing his lyre that was said to be given to him by the god himself. Though many had asked him if it  
>was true, he never gave an answer, so it was still a mystery. However all that saw the lyre in question<br>could do nothing but gaze at it in wonder. This was to be expected, this lyre was an object like my own  
>dagger, a divine mystery, an artifact close to "true magic" or "sorcery" the closest I could get to this was<br>my own teleportation technique however that was merely a deception. Maybe it is because we both  
>had these items-no matter, it made me feel warm that there was another person this rocking ship that<br>did not hate me. Still it was absurd that he didn't. Once I had divined his fortune- no, I cannot actually  
>tell the future, I do not have the eyes or the innate power to do that. However I, confounded by my own<br>misfortune can see the same plume was also around the air that enveloped him. This man would  
>descend into Hades twice. He would die because of love and die again because of blasphemy. He<br>listened intently, but did not talk it seriously. I earnestly told him, begged him not to fall in love, nor to  
>dedicate himself too firmly to one specific god. I avoided using the exact name, so not to offend more<br>people. He just smiled like the go lucky person he was and patted my hair as if I was a little girl, like he  
>was my uncle who had caught me playing a prank on him.<p>

"Medea," he suddenly said, his face still smiling.

"Yes," I replied as firmly as possible.

"What is the element that makes up the world?" he asked innocently.

I grew surprised at his sudden interest in magecraft. "There are five, fire, water, earth, wind, and ether."

"Ah, but what is the most important."

"E-Ether, your lyre is made of it, isn't it?" I said pointing to the enchanted music maker.

He gazed down at the lyre and fingered it gingerly, "Really now, interesting, however those are elements  
>to a magus, remember this Medea, you may not understand now, perhaps when you're a little older, the<br>single most important element, the element that makes up the world is…" he put his finger towards his lip  
>as if about to expel a profound secret.<p>

"Is?" I grew irritable.

"Love, of course," he put his hands out as if he let out the greatest secret in humanity.

I looked at him as if he was an idiot, happily turning around like that, even in the middle of nowhere on  
>a rocking ship…yes, there are people just like that like ( ) .<p>

-Red overwhelmed me, pathetic; I was growing nauseous from a memory of a memory.

I calmed myself down using magus breathing techniques. I noticed my hand clutching to the ships railing.

When I looked up at the deep, ocean blue, sky I noticed a shadow blotting out the light.

It was Him obviously.

Tall, blond, suntanned, the ideal Greek, I don't think I need to state everything, but he was everything to  
>me. He looked at me with those once accusing eyes.<p>

"Are you okay?" Did he seem concerned?

I didn't reply, either relies didn't seem good enough.

He put his hand on his head "Come one you can sit at the helm with me, nothing's better than some  
>fresh air."<p>

At times like this I want to believe he is concerned.

At times like this I want to believe that ( ) never happened.

At times like this I just want the ship to stop rocking,

yet it never does.

* * *

><p>I still do not understand Orpheus' words, however I hope that one day I can view the world as a<br>place that is made out of love.

I hope…I hope many things.

Those hopes were my thoughts as I sat on a seat behind the helm of the ship, Jason's spot, sometimes  
>his first mate Telamon's as well. As Jason's wife I obviously was allowed here as well.<p>

I wished to be content… looking at him right now, in this serenity.

Perhaps he didn't hate…me, perhaps…

Please don't hate me…

My thoughts grew to an abrupt stop unlike the consistent rocking of the ship as Jason turned to me and  
>regarded me on eye level.<p>

"We're approaching Crete, we are nearing the end of our journey, have you heard of the place?"

He was blustering to make idle conversation, still he said "we", wanting to hear more I shook my head.

"Of course, you grew up far away don't you?" He forced a laugh, "Well it all started with…"

He told the story of the founding of Crete, Europa, princess of some place somehow managed to get on  
>bull that was Zeus in disguise, he took her to a place in Crete where he….(blush)…. her. Afterwards he<br>gave her three gifts, conceptual weapon Pulim - a spear that would not miss, divine beast Lachelop – a  
>dog that would always catch its target, and Talos – something that was a divine mystery. Jason could not<br>really explain Talos. Possibly he did not know this Talos was. He did however show me a coin of it as he  
>tried to explain. The coin was cast in bronze; the center was a gigantic man, proportionally larger than<br>Hercules. He had wings. Yes, I agreed, it was definitely a divine mystery, but it seemed human enough  
>not to be a phantasmal race, however, why was he depicted on the bronze cast coin, why not the gold<br>or silver ones?

But I could see the island now; it was shrouded in a shadow…

No it was the air above the ship that was shrouded. It was a boulder, a gigantic ball of rock, falling  
>straight at the ship.<p>

Everyone noticed it, no one moved, something so large, was quickly grabbed and thrown back into the  
>air by Hercules.<p>

Jason cursed, roaring at no one in particular.

The boulder that had been returned reached a certain point in the air and cracked into two and fell into  
>the sea with a splash.<p>

The splash created ripples that rocked the ship rather volatilely.

However that was secondary, standing in the air… no he was hovering, his winds were a flap.

His… no, its skin was…

The instant I saw it I knew why that coin was cast bronze.

It was gold like glitter, deadly and hard like the weapons that the men of the Argo wear. A gigantic  
>unbelievable height and shape.<p>

A monster,

a being just like me.

What…What was keeping it afloat…its delicate wings could not…

Icarus.

I remembered the story of the magus Daedalus…

That meant… Talos had magic circuits running through its wings.

Unbelievable after considering it was a hunk of bronze. While it had magic circuits all over its body it was  
>still a bronze figure –<p>

Inchor.

After all didn't Jason say that this was a gift from Zeus?

Inchor is only its lay name it is actually just highly concentrated ether. God's, carrying the dreams of  
>humankind are allowed to have this substance flow in their veins. I can make a copy but all it does is<br>help the body, not the soul.

Arrays of stones fly at the ship. Orpheus quickly went into the men's quarters to arouse them; his  
>actions made the ship rock a little faster. However it is all that he can do, he is not a warrior.<p>

Jason is also not a warrior; he is the embodiment of his name.

Proud of his name when alone, ashamed in the company of others, still he wields a blade in battle. His  
>attacks have the same level of technique as the black giant's.<p>

Is that because they were both trained by the same teacher?

Jason always boasted his teacher was the centaur Chiron, phantasmal race teachers aren't that  
>uncommon and are the most sought after. I was trained by the dragon guarding the Fleece…<p>

Oh… I killed my teacher…

Is that another addition to my sins?

Ha, maybe I shouldn't try to summon that dragon anymore.

However, this was not the time to think about all that, my mind wanders too much. Just like how this  
>ship rocks too much.<p>

Talos stopped aiming rocks at the ship, Hercules kept throwing them back and when Talos threw  
>multiple rocks, Hercules whipped out his bow.<p>

It was gigantic thing, deadly killing machine, yet still graceful. He had once told me he slayed the Hydra  
>with this style giving it the name:<p>

Nine Lives: Shooting the Hundred Heads

An arrow was notched, not one of his famous poisonous ones but rather a normal bronze one, and then  
>with his gruff, loud, yet hopeless voice he proclaimed the true name and then actualized the divine<br>mystery.

He shot the arrow, a star like flashing, then…

nine dragon beams burst forth, the magical energy was astounding.

The phantoms of energy actually seemed they themselves were fully actualizing, as if they were living beings.

Magecraft, thaumaturgy, they had no explanation for this.

Quintessentially this was as close to a miracle as a human could get,

a mystery,

a Divine mystery.

Two of the phantoms smashed into the boulders obliterating even the fragments.

Talos instantly gathered more boulders, by attacking the sea and not the ship, it would try to tip over  
>the already rocking boat and capsize the crew.<p>

However, two phantoms instantly cleaved the plan and the boulders into two.

The remaining five phantoms tried to pierce through the bronze thing.

It dived like an arrow straight at one of the phantasmal dragons deciding to take the blow allowing it to  
>dodge the other ones. However I could see the barrier, its magical resistance had broken.<p>

Talos sacrificed its defense against me to save itself from certain death. Perhaps it was a phantasm race  
>indeed.<p>

It flew straight at us like the arrows that went for it and grew larger and larger blotting out the sky.

With the loss of its magical resistance it gained the ability to destroy the Argo.

With the loss of its magical resistance, I gained the ability to destroy him.

The men all cringed, Jason shouted something and then Hercules cringed as well.

O, I see, if Hercules grabbed Talos he would destroy the ship, but Jason…

why didn't you just ask me to reinforce him and the ship?

Jason…

why don't you depend on me?

Caught in this I was the only person left standing and, Jason did nothing only looking me,

why don't you grab me,

Why Don't You Pull Me Down,

WHY DON'T YOU SAVE ME!

WHY DO YOU LOOKE AT ME WITH THOSE COLD EYES THAT SHOUT MONSTER!

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT  
>DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT<p>

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT DON'T DO THAT

i-i-i…don't want… that.

I fell back Talos missing me by a hair.

I was under its belly, the bronze…

{ ΓαΤλ}

Divine words that every magus should know, divine words that are mine alone.

I activate my greatest magic, the one that proclaimed me a witch to these men.

As I was fell my cloak grew, four wings like those of a moth spread out, the color was of a dusty moth as well.

Magic circles appeared in the space behind me, all aimed at its underbelly.

I let it erupt; purple beams were released,

"Hecate Gaia."

The goddess I use to serve, the triple faced goddess of magic and crossroads, however there is also an  
>older legend about her. When Zeus distributed the world it is said he gave his most beloved goddess<br>dominion of the sky, sea, land, and all the eye could see. Hecate was that goddess. Yet, we know the  
>other gods took these places, and Hecate's Gaia will never be achieved.<p>

So at least by using this spell a dream that never actualized can be achieved if only for a brief moment.

Hecate's energy can reach wherever I see.

Truly, this becomes Hecate's world.

With no magical resistance it takes each hit, each hit a certain death, each hit making it rise, the shock of  
>the blasts have nowhere else to go.<p>

After being lifted by a barrage of purple energy the magic circles all converged into a luminous blue undercover.

I gather mana from every gap and cranny of this rocking ship and just absorb it for my coup d'grace.

Beams of woods splinter and crack from the absorption, however they would not break unless I touched  
>the ship.<p>

That would never happen, I had stifled my fall by increasing the air resistance so much that I would stay  
>in that falling, face up position.<p>

I stole a glance at Jason, wide eyed at the happening…

wide eyed at me…

did…he

think..

of

me…

as a

…monster?

I screamed like I had gone mad.

I screamed, roared, howled to rid myself of that thought, ironically the thought had started this scream  
>so the more I screamed the more I thought about it.<p>

The points of the magic circle converged right in the middle, it all met on a point in front of me…

-No! I do not want a beam, I want an overwhelming blast that will encompass all.

I want to make him accept and love me.

I want to save Him.

After all…

He is MINE.

I draw another magic circle in front of the other one to filter the energy and…

just let it go.

My robe swished around mussing the eyes on my cloak, no not eyes, miniature magic circles,  
>this was a great ritual after all.<p>

The second the blast hit Talos, it flashed and he instantly moved up.

A blinding light, any magus would know how much energy that just used.

It was propelled up in the air, it was dead, surely, if it could die at all.

The cloud cleared, everyone on the Argo was still on the deck. I used the air the balance myself back.

My head swayed.

Ah…I used…just used five hundred units of energy. Of course most of it was mana, about ninety percent,  
>so I had used about fifty units of Oda, that was… a lot. A projection, one of the most wasteful of<br>magecrafts uses just six units of Oda… so; it was miracle that I was alive.

Inchor helped me, but it seemed that it helped Talos as well.

I had expected the blast to completely vaporize the inchor or to make a hole so it would flow out.  
>However it was only missing its right side, which meant it was still moving.<p>

Now sensing danger it turned tail and fled, truly a bonze one winged eagle…

No, I would not let it flee; after all, it had made me show this side of myself to Him.

END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT

END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT END IT KILL IT

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

MAKE IT REGRET WHAT IT DID TO ME.

DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY

DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY

DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY

DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY

DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY DESTROY.

I smashed the wall of the well that contained my magical energy

so what if I had barely any left,

if I didn't have any I'd draw on the inchor of Rhodes

if that is a lie I would just draw on my blood

if I don't have any blood I'll draw on my flesh.

if I don't have flesh I'll just

USE EVERYONE ON THIS BOAT'S.

After all…

This THING tried to KILL Jason,

tried to KILL Him

so, in return…

I'LL KILL YOU!

I screamed so deliriously that my face rumpled up, laughing like that I was certain I looked like a true  
>witch, just laughing and absorbing magical energy.<p>

No from the day I ( ) I was a true witch.

I called for all the metal on the deck; I was surprised to see it was just Hercules' arrowheads.

Still laughing hideously I made them encircle me spinning faster. I moved the spinning arrowheads  
>above my head towards the sky.<p>

Lightning crackled and sparked. Many men wore shocked expressions on their faces.

Ahaha the men thought I was invoking Zeus.

I bent down and picked up Jason's bronze sword, loosened when he cowered on the deck.

IF HE CAN'T SAVE HIMSELF…

I'LL KILL EVERYTHING THAT HURTS HIM.

I no longer cared that it was Eros' arrow that made me do this. I just…

really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really,

really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really ,really, really, really, really, Really,  
>Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really,<br>Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really, Really,  
>REALLY, REALLY, REALLY,REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY,REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY,<br>REALLY,REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY,REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY,REALLY,

wanted to KILL that THING!

I threw the bronze sword into the eye of the cyclonic spinning mass.

Maybe it was because of the spinning arrowheads that the sword was the stay in place.

I took aim at the heel, his left heel, I could feel it now, and the inchor was there, a vein all the way to its neck.

H-How did I know?

I made the arrowheads circle faster and faster, the blade still unmoving.

Perhaps Talos became aware of the danger and started to strafe.

No good, that blade had my blood on it; yes I cut myself before throwing it in the mix. It only targeted the inchor I wanted it to.

I turned around, I did not see to see it shoot, and the projectile would kill on touch.

I dropped to my knees and continued laughing, laughing my hopelessness away and, I screeched exactly like the time when I killed ( ).

RED

I stopped the arrowheads abruptly.

A sonic boom faster than god-speed could be heard and with it time and the rocking boat stopped.

The moment I will notice that time stopped Talos will be dead.

I don't have to turn around as I know in one second it would gouge the heel.

In the next second it will burst out of the head of the bronze giant.

In the second after that it will end up on Crete, a meteor, according to the authorities.

These are the Erinyes the two arrowheads are Alecto and Megaera, the blade is Tisiphone.

However, this was not important right now.

What I now feared was Him and His Argonauts, they had seen my actions

w-would Hercules and Orpheus accept me or would they think of me as an evil?

What about Jason?

Would his eyes become colder and colder?

-no,no,no,no, I obtained the Fleece for him, YES, I obtained it for it for him, surely He still loves me. Yes.

But after this…what would HE think of me?

Me this killer?

I care, I care so much about what He thinks of me.

I CARE, I CARE, I CARE

I CARE SO MUCH THAT I want to…

[-]

Ahhhhh… I-I see it now. This is wrong, all this is wrong. I see what I really wanted, all I really wanted, is to apologize, apologize to you

Absyrtus.

I just…

I just want to see you and apologize for everything that went wrong.

This moment, this moment trapped in time I finally reached it, I remembered his name, the one that is  
>the most important to me, someone I truly loved from the bottom of my heart. One who's love is not<br>the scheming of a god.

But when this moment ends, I'll forget, I'll forget this truth that I have found. So while it is still warm, I  
>wish to bask in it a little longer, after all…<p>

the second time starts again, I will fall to the ground, exhausted, I used my own life energy, I fried my  
>magic circuit, and when that time comes,<p>

the time where the waves begin to rock the ship,

the time Talos will die,

the time that I will fall down -

no one will come to save me.

S-so, even if it's just for a little while, a little while that I will forget, I want to linger here, the here that is  
>lit up with the warm, light glow of the element that makes up the world.<p>

In this moment the waves don't rock the ship,

so,

for this moment, I think…

I shouldn't cry…


	3. into Assassin: after the Sky

**into Assassin: after the Sky**

"_I am just a poor loser. I cannot attack you, so allow me to joke around like that.  
>– I will protect the gate. I will protect it no matter what. But where are you going?<br>Do you not trust my protection?"_

–_Assassin, Fate/stay night_

In my more naïve days, the days when I started my journey, I had decided to bed at a certain town's inn  
>for the night.<p>

I had woken up and stepped out and due to muffled voices, I became curious. No, actually not a mild  
>emotion like curiosity touched my mind, perhaps a darker one.<p>

I stepped out into a bamboo grove, the stalks acted like curtains unveiling a great play to an anticipating  
>me.<p>

Slowly I moved in after learning that the voices, muffled at first, were actually cries for help. I rushed in. I was  
>very naïve.<p>

I, a new samurai, thought I could do something, anything… maybe I even believed that I could save those  
>people.<p>

The curtains opened with a swishing sound and a hill grew into view.

A hill of bodies.

Red mist lingered in the air, there was so much blood that it mixed in the air creating this cover. Every  
>time I took a breath I could taste IT, and IT gave a stinging sensation.<p>

My eyes naturally moved to the king…no, queen of this kingdom of death.

Crowned by a blue, full moon stood a girl, no more than ten.

Her hands red with the

blood

intestines

organs

brains

of the defeated, her eyes had tears of blood dripping down her cheeks flowing into a stream of life liquid.

After catching a glimpse of me she dropped the baby she was pulverizing and gracefully jumped away  
>from the hill of death. Her white yukata fluttered in the wind, it made her seem afloat, but…<p>

SHE WAS GOING TO KILL ME.

rUn.

I could not move, fear chained me to the spot I quivered and…

A hand… no a hand that can move that quickly and with so much force can only be described as a claw.  
>It grabbed my throat<p>

-and gripped.

But for the first time… I saw her face so smeared with blood.

I saw her face, and, she was crying, wasn't she?

She tightened her grip as I gazed upon her humiliating form.

Aaaa, my neck cracked and Monohoshizao dropped from my hand. Didn't I have any strength left?

Dammit.

So this is where it ends isn't it?

With me, my breaking neck, and a girl breaking my neck who I could not

save,

help,

even touch.

On this hill of trampled dreams, on this hill of those unjustly killed, I am not a samurai, I am not a great  
>warrior, if I die here I will be just like these other lumps of meat.<p>

Wreaked,

Weak,

Wasted.

However no matter how strongly I felt, the truth would remain the same.

I would die.

She would kill me.

So…

Why waste the effort? If I'm going to die… die faster.

Yes I'm sure those are my last memories of that day; however it is not the last memory I have. I came  
>back after ten years. This was the unsolved mystery of my life and the very reason I am lying on that exact hill.<p>

* * *

><p>I was surprised at how calm I was laying there in the middle of that death filled hilled just passing<br>time. Maybe I was in the philosophical time in my life. Ah, it was peaceful, the sun, the breeze, the gentle  
>feel of the grass under my body holding me up and…<p>

a foot on my face.

A FOOT ON MY FACE?

I snapped open my eyes painfully to see a girl not yet a woman at my side. She was a bud, not yet aged  
>eighteen. She seemed like a short girl, she only reached my shoulder, the threadbare kimono denoted<br>her status and the reason she served as my guide and valet in this town. She wore her hair in the twin  
>tail style of young girls that live in the part of the country known for its eternal summers. Her face was<br>light and very childish, it was the type of face with a smile stappled to her visage, however a sort of fake  
>smile no one could ever see through.<p>

"Oi, samurai-dono," she always called me that.

Funny story actually, when I had just walked into the village she appeared out of nowhere. She came up  
>to me with a forceful look on her face and demanded my name. I looked at her; she certainly didn't know<br>who I was. Couldn't she tell by my kimono and sword that I was from a much higher class? A girl  
>that committed such rudeness could lose her head.<p>

"You know you're supposed to give your name first. Didn't your parents tell you that?"

She looked downcast, o that was insensitive of me no wonder she…

A face seemed to overlap hers, a very young face; however that one was sad, it was always just so sad. I  
>shook my head…so this girl didn't have any parents.<p>

"I have some business in this town, do you mind? Being my guide that is..."

She looked at me with a gigantic smile as I had given her the greatest gift of her life; she quickly stopped  
>smiling so broadly, maybe she became self-conscious of herself?<p>

* * *

><p>We were in a roadside dango store, she of course was eating, eating quite a bit. It was evident<br>that she was definitely not a lady in disguise. If I eyed her with judgment, she would look back into my  
>eyes with a very sharp and dissuading look. It fit her namesake –<p>

Tsubame-

-The tiny king of the winds, the uncut-able free flying bird.

Yes, she did fit that description.

"So," she said to me while chewing, "What are you looking for?"

I looked at her and thrust a napkin in her face.

"Swallow, and then talk."

She nodded and took a gigantic gulp.

"What are you looking for?"

That triggered a memory. I remembered a little girl who also asked the exact same thing except she was  
>now dead.<p>

"Ten years ago…"

She stopped me at that and put two fingers on her forehead.

"Aha, so you're talking about the Demon Child's Massacre, right?"

Demon Child…

After seeing that girl's eyes, I really couldn't believe such a statement.

"You lost relatives in that?" she asked coming to a conclusion not far from the truth. "Well, we were just  
>at the site of killings…Where else?"<p>

"Well, those people were buried in a mass grave, right? So there's no point in going there. I kind of want  
>to see the killer's grave though?"<p>

She smiled bitterly, "Understandable," she muttered.

We rose and left this little peaceful dango store.

* * *

><p>I had taken this route before, that little girl had taken me to her house to let her parents see the "samurai that came to town."<br>This backwater village only ever had a few samurai's that walked through, "just passing," they had all said, not lingering to  
>savor the sites.<p>

I remember that walk, the little girl held my hand; she said it was very easy to get lost. Even when I told  
>her my age she just shook her head and told the story of how even the neighboring old lady who was<br>said to be over ninety still lost her way. This girl…

The pathway narrowed and I became able to see a house. It was a modest house, the mansion my  
>damiyo had was easily ten times this. However this house was cozy and well-tended.<p>

That image faded replaced with the reality that I now saw. A dilapidated house, it was small but looming  
>and ominous. No, it was not the atmosphere that made it so dark. It was a hull, a shell completely empty,<br>windows smashed, roof ripped a bit, that was not the worse though, the writings, scribbling's, and  
>graffiti was all over this place. This once happy house had been desecrated. That was the unbelievable<br>part, that something so innocent could be defiled to this level.

Yet, it had not been demolished, no this house would not be spared. It would have been salvation if it  
>was. This would exist as a symbol of hate, an everlasting tumor. This tumor existed to be hated, a hate<br>that allowed others to grieve.

Grieving through destruction.

That nice warm house never existed, it was this. Tsubame looked at it in pity. She was a child when this  
>tragedy occurred so maybe she just saw it as something to be pitied. I walked up to the gate, but I did<br>not enter, I did not want my presence to further defile this place. Tsubame kept her head down for  
>some reason. I reached inside my kimono, Tsubame shut her eyes.<p>

I took out a bundle of magnolias that I had previously picked on the hill and placed them in a vase that I  
>had purchased. I placed it on part of the stone wall that made the fence, bowed and turned around<br>motioning Tsubame to leave this place that held bittersweet memories for me.

After taking a few steps I noticed Tsubame was not following. I turned around to find her fixed to the  
>spot under the sunset. Her fists were clenched and shaking. A tear blinking crystal like dropped and<br>disappeared as it reached her neck. My head suddenly reeled.

A hill of bodies.

A girl grasping my neck about to kill me.

She was crying blood, yet they were the same tears as Tsubame shed. Yes the faces overlap, I was now  
>so sure, the girl… she was crying. It hurt didn't it?<p>

All that killing.

All that pain.

She was hurting inside.

She was screaming for help.

Is that something I felt…

Is that something I saw…

Is that something I wanted…

W H E N I K I L L E D H E R.

I immediately rushed next to the girl child and put my hand on her shoulder turning her towards me. No  
>tears, it seemed what I had just witnessed was all an illusion. She was smiling blissfully at me. Just,<br>smiling, and she gave me a look of puzzlement.

"Samurai-dono, what do you need?"

My hand had grasped her wrist. I quickly let it go. I turned around and motioned for her to follow. This  
>time she did catch up, struggling though.<p>

* * *

><p>I was sitting on a cushion situated on a very bumpy tatami mat. I toasted to the fly buzzing<br>around the candle and quickly ingested the alcohol.

No good, it was no good, alcohol is to be taken under the moon.

I instantly remembered the time I visited Ryudou Temple and drunken sake on the steps while looking  
>at the blue blue glass moon. Yes, that was one of my more peaceful memories.<p>

I put my head down on the mat, a gesture unbefitting of someone of my status. I had invited Tsubame  
>to stay here instead of that slum she lived in. After all she was my valet. When I offered to pay for a<br>room for her she flatly refused saying it would be weird for her afterwards. I reluctantly agreed. I could  
>definitely see how it could be a problem for her in the future. Still I missed having someone to talk to<br>even if she disliked my "disposition for relaxation" and would mercilessly step on my face. Stupid girl…

Shaking my head I walked out of my room and along the hallway and when I turned the corner…

I saw someone who shouldn't exist. The man had an eye patch, but his other eye was unmistakable.  
>One arm was covered with a metal claw, but I would never forget the other hand.<p>

That small cozy house, he was a part of that.

Ironically it was because his small cozy house was destroyed that I remembered him. I am sure that if  
>everything turned out fine, I wouldn't even look at him. To put it simply, our regrets make us remember<br>everything that happened.

But he couldn't exist, he was dead, that girl, she…

sliced him up.

In to how many parts?

I try to remember that part instinctively however; I don't want to remember it. I persist, after all I  
>believe it is important, it's a key for this memory that now seems to be full of holes.<p>

Yesterday when I arrived it was a clear straight truth, now after visiting, thinking, remembering. I can no longer see.

What use to be so clear is now so murky. I am able to only see the fact that I cannot remember.

I followed the phantom that should not exist. We headed out of the inn.

We headed out on the streets.

We headed past the many districts.

We headed past the slums.

We headed past the gates that should have been closed and locked.

We entered a forest.

We arrived at a clearing.

Torches that were burning revealing a camping ground. The man was only at the inn to collect  
>information. I hid behind a bush large enough to allow my body to blend in with the forest. I could see a<br>group of fifty or so men. They were bandits. The man that shouldn't exist was their leader. I could see  
>they were bandits but there was an uncommon discipline in these men.<p>

They began the move further and further into the forest until they reached the edge. The men moved to  
>the spot where they had hid a cage, it was completely metal. A fat square cage with vertical bars, the<br>small cowering animal was wearing a flower patterned kimiono.

How was I able to tell this thing was trembling, cowering?

The small bare feet were shaking. Were these bandits…slavers?

The bandit standing in front of the cage finally moved and I had a straight look at the…

I dashed in, I didn't care. I just hoped from my hiding spot and ran at them.

In my head the same name kept on repeating.

TSUBAME.

They were surprised at me…

Who cares?

They warned me to stop…

Does it matter?

The leader said he was a lord…

Don't you DARE lie.

I brought Monohoshizao down in perfect arcs one after the other.

If you have energy to shout out…

just use it die.

I twirled Monohoshizao around in a frenzy, all that came close died, and for all that stayed away, I would  
>just get close in on them, then they would be dead. That was the night of my most efficient killing.<br>Bathed in moonlight I was sure I took the mantle of an oni, too bad the new moon was out.

Wait, so why was I "bathed" in moonlight?

Ahh… my strikes were the moonlight that bathed me.

My slices, my strikes, and my thrusts, nature did not magnify them.

I magnified them to the raw power of nature.

I stopped my slaughter after the penultimate man fell.

Two people were left in this clearing, and one demon.

Which of us was the demon?

I let Monohoshizao drop until the tip reached the ground. I raised my head and looked at the phantom.  
>The man shouldn't exist. But he was standing here right in front of me. But he shouldn't exist. So…<p>

WHAT ARE YOU?

That was not the question that I posed to him, but the question inside my heart.

"Why did you capture that girl? She is nothing to you right?"

He just looked at me, shock and disbelief are too cliché to use. It was more of a feeling of disappointment.

"I'm the one who killed your daughter…so she has nothing to do with it!"

He turned around and looked at Tsubame in the cage. I could see him raise an eyebrow.

"And you, you're dead, right, I saw her slash you and…"

I remember that scene on the hill; she had let my throat go and slashed a man, that man, her father,  
>who was running at her with that gigantic claw gauntlet thing attached to his arm.<p>

Wait, I could see the contradiction now. How as I able to see that? She had gripped my neck and cracked it….

Wait, that would mean I should be dead, I shouldn't exist here either.

Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait

Wait.

Is everything I remember an illusion?

I gripped my head in pain; the apparent contradiction filled my head taunting me. Why, why didn't I  
>notice before? If I saw him die, I couldn't have my neck…<p>

"Finally, you partly remember, see girl, he remembers." He proclaimed to Tsubame.

"Why are you alive? How can you exist?"

That man that shouldn't be there clicked his tongue in contempt.

"My wife's family is special," he started "because of a specialty in their mind, they were revered, and so  
>I was given to them to be wed as my family holds this." He pointed to the gauntlet. "This is a weapon of<br>the gods, which god I'm not so sure of. Any metal it touches tarnishes."

I remember a bit more; when he was slashed by his daughter his arm was bleeding. Now he has no arm.  
>Had he cut off that arm to use the weapon?<p>

Abruptly, with no emotion, no killing intent, he ran at me trying to strike my blade.

I weaved, that was the only motion I was allowed. If I attacked it would be blocked and Monohoshizao  
>would be rust. If I wanted to kill him, I would have to wait until we got to more flat ground.<p>

Ground ten steps away. Death in five strikes.

It is actually harder to completely dodge. He is using a claw, a claw that can both pierce and slash. First I  
>would have to tell if it would be a slash or a thrust. Then I would have to tell the direction of the strike.<br>Then as the strike was being made I would have to distinguish between feint and strike. After an instant  
>I would have to react, I would move my left foot back then my right foot would push back avoiding the<br>strike. Like so.

Ground eight steps away. Death in four strikes.

Vertical slash.

Sidestep back, damn.

Ground seven steps away. Death in three strikes.

Making it was not likely now.

Thrust this time, to gain more space instead of sidestepping I leapt back.

Ground five steps left. Death in two strikes.

It had paid off, but if I was one step to fast or late I would have been deader than dead.

He immediately dashed at me and executed both strikes at once. I was unable to react quickly enough  
>so I ended up side stepping both.<p>

Five steps is all I had left, the next strike will kill me.

No, I will not die from this; no, I cannot die, because I have to save Tsubame. But why, why do I have  
>to save her?<p>

Aaaa, I forgot and to remember this I need to remember the whole story, and to remember that, I need  
>to win. And to win I need to move five steps back before this one strike hits me. And to do so I must…<p>

-sacrifice the body to save the soul.

-sacrifice the body to save the goal.

He slashes and I am in a very difficult spot. I have no more energy, dodging on calculation is too  
>untrustworthy. So I'll just…<p>

sacrifice this body to…

He slashes in a straight line, divine weapon indeed, even the air that it touches becomes rust. I throw my  
>arm guard. The guard impedes the slash of the claw, turns into rust and dissipates. During that time I<br>jump back as far as I can. The slash still goes through, I only threw the guard to get distance, not enough  
>it seems; I move my body to protect Monohoshizao, my only chance at winning, and instead I sustain a shallow cut.<p>

-A shallow cut that turned to rust.

I make it though I manage to land on flat ground, but having no fear he dashes at me.

One step, two steps, three steps.

He is now in my range and instantly I get into my only stance. Monohoshizao is lined up gleaming in the moonlight. I swing,

-he dies.

I know this before I even touch him, why?

This is my technique; I have not named it yet. After watching a swallow in flight I have learned how to  
>cage that bird.<p>

A circular arc, a vertical slash, and a horizontal ending cut to surround the opponent. All executed in one  
>strike… Needless to say I have never succeeded in fully performing it. However that is the reason that<br>now, at this time when I desperately need to pull off a miracle, it will perform.

Concisely

Creatively

Correctly

This is what it means to put one's life in one strike.

I make the first incision with the circular arc, a boundary field of sorts, and then a vertical slash cuts  
>the cage into two halves, he only has one escape path, I simply shred that with a final angular horizontal cut.<p>

A cage that is fit to capture the king of wind actualizes.

He stands there face down, I see three cuts, and he should be dead. Monohoshizao is wet with the  
>blood of this man. I walk past him up to Tsubame's cage. That happiness overwhelms the one about<br>executing this move. Why am I happy about executing this move? After all I only tried it to forget my  
>boredom…right?<p>

He moves. He who was dead moves to stab me. I do not move to defend myself, it seems my slashes  
>were too shallow… no he blocked the last two, my slashes were successive, not instantaneous - I haven't<br>perfected it after all.

So I can die here, I lost my qualification for living when that move failed to kill; I failed when I needed to  
>succeed, I can just die here. So…<p>

Blood splatters, none of it gets on me.

In the brief instant I saw blood splatter I saw a circular arc, a vertical slash, and finally a horizontal cut  
>completing the cage I failed.<p>

"Tsu…ba…me."

She is covered in blood, wearing it like a robe, wearing it like a dress; she turns to me, her lips reddened  
>by the first lipstick to touch them. Her newly wet lips are like a demon's, upturned in smile. Wind surges<br>and she is bathed in the darkness of the new moon. She turns tail and flees, and at then…

I knew nothing,

I remembered nothing,

but I understood everything.

With that knowledge I am able to run to her destination.

* * *

><p>So where do I start? These memories I have are so jumbled and none of them are true. First let's<br>start with the technique I still have no named. I remembered that it came from a watching a swallow in  
>flight, which is partly true, I learnt it from watching Tsubame kill on that hill ten years ago. I must have<br>found it so beautiful, yet so sad that it became a fixation, no maybe it was the just that… it was the only  
>true thing I remembered about her…Tsubame and the girl. So how could she execute a move like that?<br>She was just a little girl barely a decade old at that time. However remember what her father said "last  
>member of a very old family…" Oni's exist, and to fight off that threat are psychics, or humans with<br>supernatural abilities. All great leaders were said to have some aspect of a psychic inside them.  
>Tsubame's father owned and was able to use a weapon of a god; her mother's family had a psychic's<br>ability in her their genes. This is what they created. However a psychic's power is very minimal as it only  
>affects one's own body. Going up against an oni was like an ant fighting a lion; the power only gave the<br>ant teeth. Tsubame's power was on par with a lion yet she was only an ant. The answer to that  
>is simply… blood. As a child she was given oni blood, her psychic ability assimilated with that blood and<br>absorbed the inherent ability without harm. Yes this would give ants teeth as large as a lion. The final  
>question was then, why? Why if she is able to take in oni blood without harm did she go insane? Now<br>that I have seen her kill, I know that it was different from ten years ago. One was cold-blooded the other  
>one was out of instinct. Now I have seen both, I can understand her. It is an Inversion Impulse… the<br>blood she tasted must have been from a young half-blood. The man that is no longer alive could not kill  
>a grown oni so he killed a half-blood that did not exhibit any abilities,and then fed her the blood…<p>

All for the sake of the family bloodline…huh.

That night, the night I had visited, the blood had been drunk and… she had the Inversion Impulse that  
>the half-blood was supposed to have. Ironic, if that man had just killed a proper oni this would have<br>never happened. Tsubame wouldn't be crying and his wife would not have tried to stop Tsubame and  
>die in the attempt. And that man's arm would not have been cut off before Tsubame left to massacre a<br>town. That's when I came in and…

KILLED HER.

I didn't do that and she didn't kill me either, her father must have attacked before she extinguished my  
>life. She turned around and used that demonic technique. She then ran… ran away, and I was found.<br>These gaps in my memory could be from shock. The only important part is that I didn't kill her and she  
>couldn't kill me. Even if I cannot remember what happened, I can clearly see now and<p>

I see a hill under a black moon,

I see a girl standing on that hill waiting for my arrival,

I see a girl trapped,

her face is down, yes she is crying.

That is something I cannot see but I know.

After all, the wind…

is crying for her.

The ghostly wail on that desolate hill is all I need to know.

I walk towards the hill and she believes that I want to kill her.

Slowly I approach; slowly she trembles.

Unable to bear the silence she mutters.

"That attack has a name," I do not respond, but since we are the only two people under this black moon  
>she knows I am listening " It uses wind currents to create three simultaneous slashes, like… a swallow,<br>for that reason, it's called…"

"Tsu-ba-meee-"

"Ha, ironic isn't it that after so many years it'd end up mine to use."

I look at her; her eyes are crying blood, the sign of her inversion and her pain.

"Tsu-ba-meee-"

"Are you going to kill me?" she asks full of wonder and innocence.

"Tsu- No, I'm going to save you." I reply back firmly, full of empty resolve.

"Ahhh- that's the only thing you cannot do…"

She throws a left straight right to my heart, I am not allowed to block or parry. Her attack is reinforced  
>by a solid wall of air. That is her ability, manipulation of wind, the ability to cut. I simply move out of the way.<br>Even if I am fighting someone with oni blood, I am fighting a little girl. Her attacks are clumsier than  
>her father's. I do not attack simply because as soon as I do the other arm will penetrate my chest and<br>crush my heart. This is why I cannot wait for an opening, I have to make one.

I weave around again learning her

range,

area,

strike distance,

but most of I all I wait,

wait for the opportunity to make an opening.

She grows angered, yes, you are exactly the same girl, you're still exactly the same as that little girl so…

I think I can save you.

She prepares the stance that killed her father. Her arms make a cross on her chest. I instantly know what  
>I now have to do and bring Monohosizao parallel to my face.<p>

"TSU-BA-" she screams, attempting to kill the one that that torments her so.

And… I find it, in the last moments, I find the name, I find the movement, I find the technique, I find  
>everything. So, I accelerate.<p>

I go faster,

go faster,

faster,

faster than sound,

faster than light,

faster than this universe,

faster than this dimension.

Why?

She's crying, I have to save her so…

"TSUBAME GAESHI"

I create a phenomenon that refracts my strikes into multiple dimensions.

She creates three strikes that are made out of solidified air.

I release it as she releases hers.

Twin circular arcs entrap the opponent.

Twin vertical slashes cut of escape.

Twin horizontal cuts complete the cage.

We stand completely still until the wind stops…

And I fall.

Why did I lose? It was perfect; I perfected it and executed it perfectly, so why didn't I perfectly save her?  
>As I fall Monohoshizao also falls and makes a different sound. O… it's simple isn't it. Her father had his<br>arm cut off; the loss of blood and shock would kill anyone. He took that weapon and attached that  
>cursed thing to the stub on his arm for sterilization. However it touched his bloodstream and blood has<br>iron. His blood became part of the weapon of god and my blade touched his blood. Monohoshizao has  
>lost its edge, so no matter what I would have lost this battle.<p>

I lay on the dry ground, above me is the dark new moon bathing the victor. My eyes are blank and I  
>cannot see, but that victor is crying for the loser. She is gripping my kimono and crying blood. I think that<br>is the most pitiful sight I have seen. This girl, she was in pain, but she couldn't cry. As soon as she did,  
>those tears of blood would remind her of her sins. She could not let out her emotion and it festered.<br>So here was a girl who needed to cry the most, but couldn't. These are not tears of blood that prove she is  
>not human, but tears of blood that destroyed her humanity. But now she is crying, she is clinging to me<br>crying that blood. Why? Why is she crying when she knows no true tears will come out? However I fall again,  
>this time to pure darkness, yet I am still irritated with that question.<p>

* * *

><p>It has been a week since that battle and I walk to the hill where it all occurred. I am at peace<br>now, I think. The real truth was that night under the blue full moon I had fled into the forest and lived  
>there hoping to live my days peacefully. One day I saw that samurai come back to town. I followed him<br>and then asked he asked me to be his guide. That all there was to that simple story. I walk up the hill  
>made out of the corpses of those I stepped on and…<p>

he waves at me. The wounds were not fatal; the only reason was that he refracted my wind slices with  
>his blade. His blade could have destroyed them if it was not rusted. Yes, in that moment, this man<br>surpassed my strikes, and surpassed even the gods. I am sure that one strike became three. This man is  
>dangerous. But so am I, I killed my father in defense of this man and only attacked him because I wanted<br>to… I will no longer think about that. I go up to him and ask…

* * *

><p>"Can I go with you on your journey?" Tsubame's question startles me.<p>

No one has ever asked me that or wanted that. I simply nod.

On this corpse covered hill where the sun has now risen, we start.

We do not know what we start, but we start anyway.

The sky is blue, and it is that blue that we pursue.

The bamboo grove curtain blesses the closing of this play.

* * *

><p>This is the end of my memory and all I can remember. I am a nameless swordsman. I do not<br>know the fate of myself or this girl, Tsubame. Perhaps we settled down in a small village? Perhaps we  
>continued our journey till we died? Perhaps one of us died on a nameless roadside? However none of<br>these conclusions can change the fact that I met this girl. None of these conclusions can defile that fact.  
>For me, a nameless swordsman, a fictitious hero, this is the only truth I am allowed to tell and the only<br>truth I will never allow to sink into the darkness.


	4. into Saber: running through Life

into Saber: running through Life

"'_- I can't stray from my path for the people's I've left behind-'_

_Those were her words._

_Those were the words of her heart that holds her country dear._

_It is the mind of a girl before she became king. But it is not the heart of the king. The only one the king believed in was herself. To deny that would be to deny everything she had taken away."_

_-Saber, Fate/stay night_

Shall I tell you story? A tale of long forgotten lore. A time where knights clashed and dragons roared. A  
>time where lords went to battle for ladies that were at rest. A time where a table, round, was centered<br>with my crest. This was the time where heroes roamed. This was a time for questing. This was the time  
>of honor, chivalry, and glory. These were the times I lived and fought. These were the times when I lived.<br>However that is only when and where, because most of all this, is a story of an I, before I met you.

* * *

><p>We made camp near the forts of Badon. Among the bright, war colored pennants "my" tent<br>stood at the center. Obviously the enemy had longbows and would attack the center of this camp  
>believing that it was be king's domain. By having a decoy tent in the middle I was able to escape certain<br>death. In my real tent I had a war room with none of the pomp or ceremony one would expect and of  
>course we could not take the round table with us on these campaigns, so we all stood. Yes, that was<br>how primitive we were; we all stood on the grass.

I stood at the head, of course, the country's greatest magus stood at my side. He was a whimsical old  
>fellow… which meant he was a complete failure as a human. He was an unreliable old man who tried to<br>do everything and never told me anything. He really, really got on my nerves. However, he was like a  
>grandfather to me, he taught me quite a bit, that old man did: how to read the stars, how to help a<br>country grow, and even how to fight evenly with a grown knight.

Yes, my stature was very small at that time.

Yes, my stature is still small today; you really don't have to remind me.

After all, are you telling the story or am I?

To my left and right were my two most trusted knights. To my right was Lancelot du Luc the "perfect  
>knight", and to my left was Gawain "the maiden's knight". The others tall, short, tan, pale, sickly, strong,<br>all of them had their country in their heart and their loyalty to me. The thought that these extraordinary  
>men would ally themselves with a person like me brought me great hope. Of course we would have our<br>share of disagreements, but the knights of round always made up, sure sometimes it got bloody… but no  
>one died in those disputes, I made sure of that, after all I was their king.<p>

The knights all bowed and left to prepare for the battle that would occur next morn. I had given out the  
>orders. As they filed I looked towards Merlin, regarding him, and asked if he had anything to add. He<br>simply shook his head and told that I was now a fully grown king and this would be my final battle  
>against the invaders. He then smiled and disappeared with the twirl of his cloak, stupid old man. He had<br>just told me he was off the drink some ale back in Camelot castle.

I walked out of the camp into the cool air of the evening; sparks of fire could be seen from the torches  
>where the men sat. I had turned away from all of them, because they did not want me with them, if I<br>walked and sat next to them they would be nervous and not themselves. That was a mutual  
>understanding between us. Some aspects of me frightened them as well like how I was well into my<br>twenties yet I looked like I had passed my rites just yesterday. Excalibur stopped my aging process;  
>Avalon gave me immortality, which could be seen as a blessing since I was the king, however to be so<br>commanding yet so small, many people would not believe that, and ambassadors always looked down  
>on me.<p>

* * *

><p>I walked up the hill to see the fort the invaders had taken. There I stood watching the enemy,<br>from dusk till dawn; of course it was different from my time that I spent with you. I had my own magical  
>circuits then and my prana storage was as large as it was today. I did not need much sleep. I merely<br>stood there sword in hand awaiting the violet sky, and the peeking gold of the dawn that would herald  
>the beginning of the twelfth battle in my ten years of power. I cannot say I was not tired, it had been<br>battle after battle after battle. I smiled wearily, but standing here watching the sunrise in all its majesty,  
>I think that all the sacrifices all the pain I had gone through…was worth it. If all the people I loved, Kay,<br>Ector, Guinevere, Lance, Gawain, Morgauese, Mordred, Vivian, and even Merlin that drunk old bastard  
>could be well and view this indigo sunrise and the flowing grass of this hill… it would definitely be worth<br>it all… this. So I have to fight on, yes fight and kill and kill and kill and kill and kill to keep trying to fight  
>for this ending.<p>

As I stand here my men start to assemble. I told them the time to assemble, and these loyal knights all  
>assembled at that time, after all they were the greatest and most loyal knights. They quickly split into<br>their squadrons and formations and without word. Siege engines and a battering ran were procured,  
>they would be needed to penetrate the fort. I motioned Gawain to my side and nodded at him. I then<br>took Excalibur out of Avalon Gawain took out Galantine. The crystallization of mankind's hopes and  
>dreams slide out effortlessly. Gawain's Galantine was however did not. Galantine's power increased as<br>the day grew and waned as the day ended. I had delayed the battle till now, the latest possible time, if I  
>had waited longer the fort's army would ride out and our chance of a siege would be minimized. Of<br>course we also couldn't just close in; if they saw us the archers would just pick us off so easily. So we had  
>to make our attack here.<p>

I raised Excalibur Gawain raised Galantine; a great scar would appear in this land however since the  
>angle of the blade would face upwards therefore the damage would be slightly offset the damage to the<br>land. I believed the risk was worth it though. That was the reason we were going to use both these holy  
>swords and the only way that we would be able to win quickly. A siege could take a couple of weeks<br>maximum. To end it efficiently and with the least amount people would die. That… was the best way  
>right? That was the way I always fought. I pushed prana into the blade, more and more, exactly like how<br>that stupid old man had taught me. I kept putting in prana, pumping it into the blade, more and more.  
>The light of my blade grew brighter and brighter. An over whelming light that slices the earth.<br>Galantine's light grew vermillion like the rising sun, but it was only the rising sun it would not reach the  
>midday sun. However with enough backup for Excalibur both these holy swords would demolish the fort<br>and throw those barbarians in confusion. There would be no more archers and that would be an easy  
>battle.<p>

The holy swords reached the peak of capacity and….

"EX-"

I raise the last phantasm a golden sword of promised victory higher and started to aim.

"CALIBUR"

All the prana was released creating a gigantic dislocation in the earth. All the army cringed, even the  
>bravest knights shield their faces. The horses all buckled and reared and the clouds in the sky were cut<br>into two as if it was cleaved by a celestial blade. The "light" headed towards the hill, it look like a holy  
>beam, but really it was a gigantic slash, a manifestation of kinetic energy.<p>

"EX-CALIBUR"

Gawain had his vermillion sword raised; its power was feeble compared to Excalibur, but enough to  
>wipe out an army, but not a fortress.<p>

"GALANTINE!"

Gawain's prana poured out horizontally, its luster and length was dimmed in comparison to my strike. If  
>this was midday I am sure it would be equal to my strike. I roared searing the sky, and when it touched<br>Excalibur's wave it merged into a Holy Cross. The push and extra energy from Galantine pushed it faster  
>until it smashed into the castle wall and that is when my vision became impaired due to the dust on this<br>green hill, a desert among the valley.

* * *

><p>The sunlight beats on my eyelids; I am merely telling you a story you have seen. I am sure you<br>have seen this story, and you felt sorry for me who was sundering under pressure. Is this why your eyes are  
>now closed and are dozing under this sunlight? Was it because you wanted to hear the truth of the day, not the<br>fey fairytale I have weaved for you. However I only wanted to protect you, protect you from  
>an I before I met you. So I created another one, another me before I met you, a gentle lie, a lie as soft as<br>a quill yet as sharp as the nib. But you can see through it, can't you after all; you have seen me run  
>through my life. But still, you were not the only one trying to save someone. I had hoped I could save<br>you too, save you from becoming that knight caged in red. However now that you are asleep and can  
>longer hear my words, I think I can let this loneliness go. I wanted to let this loneliness go however I did<br>not want you to have part of this burden, you have to much the bear already, but still I want to let these  
>emotions of emptiness fly away, even if it is just for a moment. I am a horrible person right, I want to<br>save you, yet I want to burden you with myself. But maybe it is because you will not wake yet that I can  
>achieve both.<p>

I jumped, pushing off the hill into the cloud of dust.

I adjusted my prana pumping all of it into my feet allowing them to go faster, go faster and go faster…

into godspeed.

I pass the boundary of dust and see the wreckage that Excalibur and Galantine caused.

Stone was seared like it was cut with hot irons.

Bodies were strewn all over the bottom of the fort.

Corpses were so mangled that they could no longer be called corpses.

Limbs, cut up or smashed up, decorated the foot of the fort.

A man's harsh yet hoarse voice roared desperate commands. Later in my life I would learn that his name  
>was "Aelle of Sussex."<p>

Among the wreckage and death I stood with a ready stance. This environment was commonplace for a  
>king like me.<p>

I could only stand the way I did because I believed that my country was behind me, without that, all I would  
>or could be is a lonely little girl pretending to be something she would or could never be, and she<br>would be seen as a fool.

I could only stand being alone.

I could only stand being afar.

I could only stand being away.

I could only stand-

-because I believed in this.

The barbarians roared at the sight of a single slender "boy", and the feeling of certain victory filled them.  
>Aelle rallied his troops and I-I just stood there and kept believing that my own army would arrive. I had<br>sped through the "desert" with the goal of rallying my troops, but crossing the hills would take my army  
>about ten minutes.<p>

I had to defend myself for those ten minutes, but most of all I believed I could defend myself in those  
>ten minutes.<p>

I believed my country supported my back, so I must support my country.

The barbarians quickly abandoned the broken down fort and rushed into me.

I braced myself and drove a gigantic horizontal slash that easily cut through the barbarian's tanned  
>leather and hides. The three leading attackers were cut down in an instant.<p>

I twisted my legs and spun into an uppercut slicing an enemy's head and from that position hacked  
>at the helmet of another.<p>

Blood and brain splattered all at once.

An enemy to my left brought forth an axe like lightning. Lightning did not compare to my speed so  
>instantly I chopped off that arm.<p>

A foolish enemy that dare tried to pierce my back with his dagger was cleanly cut into two pieces, yet  
>the corpse no longer looked human.<p>

That is when I realized that my back was being targeted. Because I was so involved in clearing out those  
>in front of me many were able to surround me creating a circle, creating a cage. The only way out of a<br>cage is to force an opening, but this was a living cage so people could plug in the gap. So for such a plan  
>to work I would<p>

-have to annihilate EVERYONE.

Most of the barbarians held spears simply because a spear was the easiest weapon to obtain. A spear is  
>only a knife attached to a pole. It was that simple. Yet that pole gave a superior reach to swords that<br>were wholly made of metal.

Excalibur was not metal, so it quickly destroyed all the spears.

Enough spears were broken that the splinters covered the sky. It gave the image that we were fighting  
>under a dog-rose bush. The splinters fell as all items are attracted to the Earth and landed upright.<p>

Markers for each spear destroyed.

The number of splinters went into the thousands, yet the barbarians knew no fear and raged on at me.

The golden sword of promised victory became heavier and heavier as countless men were smashed and  
>slaughtered, their bodies becoming lumps of meat incomprehensible and indistinguishable to the<br>human eye.

Every time I moved death struck.

Every thrust equaled a pierced heart.

Every cut exposed the organs that make a human alive.

Every strike crushed heads that would never think and closed eyes that would never open.

Yet, all this carnage happened in the space of two minutes, there were eight minutes left. Eight more  
>eternities of this torture, this terrible, terrible torture. The torture that I faced in every battlefield I "ran"<br>through.

You called this beautiful, you believe that THIS,

THIS was the reason that I shined so brightly?

I killed my emotions when I became king; I killed them like I am killing the people here,

-just because I killed them does not mean I never wanted them, cherished them, or blessed them. I  
>merely disregarded them, ignored them, and told them that they didn't mean anything to me. I covered<br>them with "pride" and "duty." Do you know why I sought a miracle on Camlann? You should right?

Even if I killed my emotions…

I never lost them.

I killed my heart, so? It's not like I actually "killed" my heart, I did not tear it out. If it was still in my body  
>it would still beat and I would feel every emotion of pain, loss, fear, hate, cowardice, fear, discomfort,<br>agony, aching, hurt, soreness, fear, throbbing, damage, harm, injury, defeat, fear, terror, dread, fear,  
>anxiety, horror, distress, anguish, fear , fright, panic, alarm, odium, disgust, dislike, loathing, fear, revulsion,<br>animosity, weakness, timidity, spinelessness, terror, abhorrence, aversion, fear, fear, fear.

I felt these.

I lived these.

I feared these.

Yet, I struggled onward.

Yet I still struggled onward and onward through this circle of living, breathing humans. Humans that when  
>I am through with them…<p>

-will no longer be living nor breathing.

A slash and a spray of red appears a cut dyes the prey red. An array of people, an army, all, all dead. Still  
>they surged, now out of fear, now out of rage, for and because of the dead. They rushed in at me and I<br>constantly repelled them.

A jab that should have stabbed was parried.

A slash that should have sliced was returned splitting and crushing a head.

Another slash was sidestepped and instead of splitting my head, severed two spines.

This was the environment that surrounded me.

I kept slashing through,

slashing lives,

crushing lives,

crushing families,

killing families,

killing people...

as I fought on and on I could feel the curses of the people upon me. I heard

-mothers screaming for their children back.

-fathers cursing the fact they would have no grandchildren.

-sisters wailing at the fact their brother's corpse had been violated.

-brothers wailing at the fact their sister's body had been violated.

-wives screeching at the fact they became widows.

-children crying because there trenchers would be empty, again.

This is the foul, grimy, sooty dust that I left in my wake. Every time I moved forward, the curses from  
>people all over the world would resonate. Every time I slashed, every time I hurt someone. The world<br>cursed me with all those voices repeating in my head, pounding ,and pounding, and pounding.

…

-anyone…

I smash my sword to my side, not a swinging but smashing, there was no elegance, no skill, no technique,  
>it was just a baby raging against the world. I was just venting my emotion in an orgy of blood.<p>

But why? Why would I do this?

I could not lie to myself and say it was because I wished for people's happiness. I was killing because…

iwasafraid

I WAS BLOODTHIRTSY

Iwasalonelygirlthatcracked

This was the first time I felt such an emotion, I the king, the killer of her own heart, was left with curses  
>from all I trampled on. Without a heart to keep me strong, safe, or sheltered from those curses I had<br>accepted them as a natural course:

"A king is someone who kills everyone to save everyone."

Weren't those my words?

…shutup

I kill to shut up those words and curses.

Over this I begin to hear a rasp and hoarse shout.

shutup

I kill more to shut it up and…

when it stops chattering so annoyingly…

-it starts again.

-ARRRRGGGGGGHH.

SHUTUP just SHUTUP

just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP  
>just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP<br>just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP just SHUTUP  
>just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just… just<p>

-just…

die.

I kill even more to shut it up.

But it doesn't stop; it gets even louder and louder.

SHUTUPANDJUSTDIE

I kill even more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more,  
>hoping, wishing, behooving that this one voice would justSTOP.<p>

  
><p>

I stop killing when I realize there is no one else to kill and I start roaring with laughter.

three minutes left

Why am I roaring in laughter?

I'm stupid; I thought there was no one else left in the battlefield so the voice must have been mine.  
>After all it did start to get louder the less people there were. I was afraid that the horrible raspy, hoarse<br>sound was my heart. O no, I was wrong, I must be wrong it was the heart of the last person standing on  
>this hell.<p>

Only Aelle, the harsh, hoarse voiced general and I were standing on this hill. The Battle and The Bear.

The golden sword of promised victory glowed dully in my hand; maybe it could become black if I gave  
>into this darkness. His sword however was dulled, rusted, and beaten up, yet it had a shimmer unlike<br>mine. So… it is purpose that set us apart. I do not know what went through his head; I could not read  
>him like I usually do because all that was going through my head was…<p>

ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYING ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYING ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYING  
>ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYING ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYING ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYING<br>RASPY VOICE

KILL IT

I want to live,

so therefore,

you must be at fault,

so if I kill you

-THISVOICEWILLSTOP

I explode into motion.

I do not care if this golden sword is stained,

I do not care if everyone curses me,

I do not care if right now I am evil,

I simply do not care.

If there is no fear in his face because he is The Battle…

I'll make him fear.

If there is resolve in his stance and he is fighting for something…

I'll crush that resolve and stance even if at this moment I am fighting for nothing.

If there is something beautiful in his strike…

-I just want to destroy that something beautiful.

So I just ,  
>many would say I had gone berserk or battle frenzied. That is not true, I have merely found the depth of<br>my darkness, and there in the abyss I asked myself the question:

"Would the country be better off with another King?"

It is only something that flashes through my mind for a second but in that instant my whole world  
>breaks<p>

-and is remade.

Aelle had finally finished blocking my attacks and thrusted. Instinctively I took up Avalon.

The same Avalon that makes All a Distant Utopia.

My blade regains its original color; I did not expect that, I merely needed a method to defend myself.  
>What happened afterwards was extraneous.<p>

The defense holds, after all it is Avalon and I quickly respond and end it in an instant.

The Battle is shredded by The Bear.

He quickly crumples without saying a word, and I also fall down from exhaustion with Excalibur in one  
>hand and Avalon in the other. I surveyed the damage, yes; it is like Merlin INFERED, this would set the<br>barbarians back many years.

one minute left

My knights arrive one minute later all ready to fight just to discover the king sitting on the ground newly  
>consecrated with the blood of heathens just waiting. I was one minute too late, I had killed nine<br>hundred and six men in nine minutes.

* * *

><p>And that is the end of my memory. You know what happened next, the knights isolated me<br>more and more until eventually one said "King Arthur does not understand human emotion," and he left.  
>Yes this is my darkness, but it is also my hope, this was the story of an I before I met you, however<br>because that knight said such things I pursued that disgusting relic and…

I met you.

The branches of the tree we are under part due to the warm wind and rays of sunlight light up your face,  
>and I realize how gentle and peaceful it is here. The warmth of the sunlight makes me realize how<br>drowsy I really am. I start to close my eyes and let the warmth of being near to you sink into me and  
>wonder what we will do when we wake up. Let's gather apples, yes; then you can make a pie. One<br>overflowing with syrup and with crust so fragrant even the wood creatures will visit. So… when we wake  
>up, let's pick apples deep, deep, in the forest.<p> 


	5. into Lancer: killing the Heart

into Lancer: killing the Heart

"'_You are certainly good at fighting. Your tactics will get you though many battles. – But that is not the right way. Your swords are lacking in pride.'_

'_Fortunately, I do not have pride. But what about it? Will the name of the hero be disgraced? Hah, do not make me laugh Lancer. You can wash away disgrace with results. You can feed your meaningless pride to the dogs.'"_

_-Lancer vs Archer, Fate/stay night_

A red sky and a hill of corpses.

This is a dream that I sporadically see. It is neither a painful nor scary dream. It is merely an absolute certainty  
>I must live with. I have realized that this is the first dream I ever saw and accepted the fact that this is<br>the last dream I will ever see.

A tyrant god, a god that cannot be called evil ruled. A young man raised without knowing his true parents.

That was all there was.

It was fate they met and also fate one would kill the other.

The great god was renowned all over the land as the man who could kill anything with the opening of  
>one of his four eyes.<p>

The god who could see everything and the boy who was not yet a man.

That was all there was to the story.

In reality the boy was that god's grandson; neither knew this, maybe if they have both known, this  
>would have ended differently. Because of a prophecy the god tried to drown the boy and his brothers.<br>The brothers died but the boy was found by a farmer who was fishing and from then on decided to live  
>his brother's lives for them. Ironically it was also this drowning that allowed the boy to fight.<br>He, the boy, with the blood of the "Evil Eye" and who had been so close to death; became a grim reaper.  
>His companions and the people he fought with always called him a shining light, an existence that swept<br>away all his enemies. They were wrong and soon learnt so. Quickly those who called themselves his  
>companions became his enemies; the people that fought with him became the people that fought<br>against him; and quickly he became known as a homicidal maniac, someone always chasing death. He  
>was no longer a person but rather a phenomenon that killed and killed and killed and killed and killed<br>and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed and killed.

They…were wrong. This young man needed to eat; his trade that allowed him to do that was killing. It  
>was as pure and simple as that. And now here they were grandfather facing grandson, what more can I<br>say, this was fate.

The old god opened his third eye, the Mystic Eye of Death.

It killed one after one after one after one of the opposing army's men, yet it could only kill them one at a  
>time. An eye can only focus on one thing so in a way it was something that could not change the tides of<br>a war. However for the young man the weakening sun showed a world where…

-Death enveloped everything; the world was covered with death.  
>Thin spidery lines threaded through everything and points showed their despair. Aaa, so this was the<br>world the young man saw, it was like the surface of the moon; ironic for the boy who would be called a  
>sun god for his radiance. Eventually the blood red sun fell like all the men and a full moon blessed the<br>remaining two combatants.

Neither wanted this outcome.

Neither fought for this outcome.

Therefore…it must have been fate.

HE couldn't see that he could see death.

HE thought he saw life.

HE was mistaken.

he saw that HE could actualize death.

he though that HE could only end life.

he was correct.

The old god spat out an insult, but the young man was not listening. The moonlit world made the lines  
>grow clearer. This was a battlefield that had death etched in it.<p>

"You are death," the young man said "every time you open that eye 'death' is actualized; consequently,  
>you never see death; when that eye opens… things just… die."<p>

The old god raged and grappled then hurled a tree trunk; the young man quickly stabbed its "point"  
>erasing the tree's existence.<p>

"Things die when you look at them but…  
>If you could see death you couldn't even manage to stand…"<p>

-To give an example, it is like the world on the moon. Everything is like a desolate wasteland. The seam  
>of death on everything heI see. Events of the world disappear when he/I touch them.

"Being able to see 'death' means you are forced to see the world's uncertainty and fragility. The ground  
>is about to crack at any moment and the sky is about to fall at any moment. You only know of the<br>illusion, not the fact that the whole world could perish in an instant, THAT is what it means to see death.  
>If you could see what I see, you would not boast about these eyes like you do for yours."<p>

The power of the Mystic Eyes of Death was definitely stronger, but the Old God wanted to retreat;  
>because, that young man was stronger. The youth held meager eyes, but those eyes could take a god's<br>sanity… So this young man, in keeping his sanity… was definitely stronger.

But not matter how strong he actually was the old god's eye could kill him instantly. All the old god had  
>to do was to open his eye. The young man would not let that happen though. He took out a sling, but<br>even with the full moon reflecting the lines, the old god did not have any lines or points, he was god after  
>all.<p>

"With these eyes… I can even kill a god," mouthed the youth in an attempt assure himself.

So he waits, he waits for the moment a point will appear on this god. He bets it all that in one second a  
>point will appear. The old god laughs hideously and opens his Mystic Eye of Death.<p>

One second later nothing happens. The old god is unable to see what happened because…

T.

The young god turns away, his accession is complete. As he walks away the dead old man disintegrates  
>and thinks.<p>

"Heh, because I could not see death, my death was my 'death'."

He smiles gently, as if laughing at his own terrible joke.

This is a dream I sometimes view, again it is neither painful nor sad. It is a realization of a man and of a god.  
>And now…<p>

I think I see why I see this.

* * *

><p>The morning sun is caught by the floral embroided curtains and the sun was kept out of the<br>room allowing us a few more minutes of respite. I leave the bed though and dress in my skin tight blue  
>outfit and armor; I cover up that up with a cloak to hold my needs. It is another 'ordinary' day as a<br>Knight of the Red Branch. I move to the dark mahogany weapons closet and pull out a few assorted  
>weapons and a dark red barbed spear.<p>

Gae Bolg

As my memory turns to the first time I used it; I hope I will not need to use this today.

…This is my own memory yet the sky is so red, but this is my own memory, so I do not think it will turn  
>into a moonlit world. My best friend and rival Ferdiad held a fine blade and an apron made up of six<br>inches of solid iron. My best blue armor, skin tight, that my princess commands me to wear was cut  
>into a shredded mess and the shoulder plates had dents running all over them. On the other hand Ferdiad<br>was completely unharmed. My spears would not pierce his armor nor his skin.

Aife's Blessing: The Eruption of a Thousand Thorns

It is a series of runes that are cast onto something which reinforces the inanimate item and gives a counterattack  
>feature. This was Ferdiad's signature skill. Even if we were both were taught by Scathach we excelled in<br>different ways. Ferdiad became the first living being to apply Aife's blessing to an animate creation.  
>Usually when something like that was tried the inside of the living thing would also take characteristics<br>of thorns and the heart would be pierced from the inside by a thousand thorns. Ferdiad's skill was his  
>attention to detail; he would only spread the rune into his skin. When one of my spears touched him, it<br>would instantly crumble due to the counterattack. Because of this I had gone through five spears  
>already and found all I could do was to attack the iron sheet hoping that my spear would penetrate it.<br>However the apron was six inches of iron. Ferdiad may have no harm done to him from the outside  
>but he was fatigued, he had to maintain the spell while also fighting with an iron apron.<p>

A blink of red caught my eye and I quickly turned to the ford that we were fighting on. Sure enough my  
>trump card was on its way down. I decided to stab my current spear onto the sandy ground and<br>watched as Ferdiad visibly relaxed.

"Was she worth it, the White Princess?" I spat out.

Ferdiad's relaxed eyes hardened at the insult. "You know nothing Hound of Ulster."

"Is she like the bards tell?" I provoked him further.

"S-She's just a lonely girl… you know her mother…" his eyes became downcast "she just needs someone  
>to help her…"<p>

For the first time in our friendship I was speechless. I had never seen Ferdiad like this. "Do you… Do you perhaps… love her?"

He looked at me rather sheepishly "Yay, I do."

I put my hand to my head in exasperation and quietly whispered only loud enough for me to hear it, "I am so sorry."

I take the red spear that is at my feet. Ferdiad has seen this spear and the knowledge of what it was made him stammer:

"G-Gae…"

I nodded sadly.

"Indeed, Gae Bolg"

The instant I cast the name, mana was sucked out of the environment and a red flash appeared. The  
>spear moved in an impossible angle from my hand to his chest. Ferdiad's iron burden which he had worn<br>just for this occasion was paper so he had to pour prana which he didn't have into his skin. The thorns  
>and the barbs clashed as Ferdiad's skin grew thornier and thornier and harder and harder until the<br>thorns erupted. They could no longer continue to take in prana and just let go. I have no defense against  
>this suicide mechanism. When Feridiad was about to die, his reserve prana would automatically<br>overload his circuit and bring about this result. Each thorn that pierced me burned and seared, definitely  
>this was aptly named Aife's Blessing. Even if I was covered with gigantic thorns I struggled to reach the<br>spot of my dying friend. He was lying face up with Gae Bolg sticking from his left breast yet…

"Is that your own version of Gae Bolg? It should be called 'The Piercing Lance of Death Thorns'. To think  
>you would be able to create your own style with it. Well after all in that brilliant hall of learning you<br>were our pride – so… I am sure you… of all people can save… her."

I looked at him with pity and perplexment. Even when I was chasing my princess I never… did that. I take  
>the spear and rip it out of his chest and let the blood soaked waves bury him and the hard river bed<br>become his coffin. I close my eyes for a second, a sign of my respect for the fallen friend, and then raise  
>my spear in a salute and a farewell.<p>

I never fulfilled my promise. The White Princess died later, her story is a tragedy. I could not save her  
>after all I was fighting all day against her successive husbands on that blood soaked ford. I lied to him so<br>I could let him die with no regrets. I think that should be enough, it is not his ghost that will kill and  
>torment me, but rather my own psyche will rightfully perform that job. I think I can live with that.<p>

I snap myself out of that memory and take Gae Bolg out of the weapon case wordlessly and solemnly.  
>Gae Bolg was a spear born in the country of Shadow and made of the remains of the Coinchenn when it<br>had died in its battle against the Curruid. This spear was conceived in battle and it would live in battle  
>for the rest of its days. I peak further into the closest and there left unattended to was a dagger, a rather<br>plain dagger with a gigantic orb attached to the hilt.

Fragarach: The Sword of the Gorging War God also known as Answerer: That Which Comes Later Cuts First.

The artifact was given to me by the god Lugh to be able to fight on even ground with that insane goddess  
>of war Morrigan. I did not understand the weapon then and still do not understand how to use it, only<br>that it would be vital to my victory. I just kept on using it like a brute. I just kept ramming the dagger in  
>that crazy goddess until she fled. There was no finesse; there was no elegance so that is why I have<br>decided to never use it again. I will leave it for someone who is worthier. My father, Lugh, gave me this  
>weapon but it deserves a home and an owner that is able to understand its worth.<p>

A sleepy but throaty, thrilling voice murmurs "Se…tana."

There was only one other person in this house and she was the only person I let call me that: my  
>princess. I moved towards the disheveled bed and ran my hand along her heavy locks. She did not<br>look her best today with the eyes all red and puffy…

"Don't… go."

Last night was the first time that she ever cried at me. The image of my strong, resilient, but ever loving  
>princess was shattered. Even if she was tough she could also be fragile. All people are like this, they have<br>a shell that can withstand the world, but in reality everyone is soft on the inside, everyone has part of  
>them… that just wants to be loved. Well, maybe not Scathach… she… is kind of…. I knelt down and<br>brushed my lips against her forehead. I retreated and was treated with a content sleeping face; I never  
>saw that though, I had already left gone to face the darkness she did not want me to.<p>

* * *

><p>My walk to the castle was rather uneventful. Some peasants hailed me and I went to have a<br>conversation with them about the basic things in life: who was getting married, who was having children,  
>who had died. The very basic to farm life is that there should be no worries. This was the land I lived in;<br>this was the land I protected…

ALL ALONE.

Not once did I falter.

Not once did I give in.

Not once did I question whether it would be worth it.

All because I had her; my princess that would stand by me and kick me if I needed to be. Well Scathach  
>did that as well… but sending me into a monster den without any food for about ten days and setting a<br>fire around the place to make sure I would not escape was quite extreme… Actually now I think about it,  
>I'm glad I married my princess and not some insane, sadistic vampire? Overlord thing that believes it is<br>the master of the universe that tries to kill her disciples for her amusement but sometimes breaks down  
>emotionally at random times, only to go into a rampage right after type of person. Those people are<br>scary. I laugh at my own idle thoughts and grow puzzled when I could not hear laughter next to me as  
>well. Where was Ferd- he was dead, we had been together for so long that… sometimes I forget that<br>I…

K L ED him.

I am beginning to accept the fact though; my princess said that was a good sign. I told her a better sign  
>would be Ferdiad's resurrection. She hit me on the head and told me I it was because I was smiling like a<br>fool. Mmmm I think that was the day when I caught the gigantic bass and while I was walking back to  
>the house I suddenly was charged but a gigantic wild boar. So in the end, when I finally returned home I<br>had the bass in one hand and the boar in the other. Of course I was very pleased with my catch. The  
>door opened and… she instantly scolded me for wreaking the clothes she had knit. I told her she was a<br>princess and didn't have to knit anymore. She looked at me like I was something she found at the  
>bottom of her shoe. I tried to then explain to her how I had strangled the boar while holding the bass<br>because if I left the bass on the ground it would get dirty. She lifted an eyebrow and then smiled  
>dangerously. She reached out and grabbed the bass and told me to wait. Soon she came back for the<br>boar and… still smiling sweetly, slammed the door on my disbelieving face. This was the time I learnt my  
>princess could be a bit… So I sat on a tree stump until the moon started to rise. Smoke was billowing out<br>of the chimney, the mere sight made me quite hungry, but I stayed there for one reason or another, well  
>that was my excuse. The breeze carried the scent of a cold winter and I shivered a little. Wild dogs<br>howled greetings that good old moon and the world became one that was moonlit. The trees, the grass,  
>even the stump I sat on carried a silverfish tinge and…<p>

I thought I might have seen a thin spidery line on the place I sat on. It quickly disappeared. On bright full  
>mooned nights I am able to see disgusting dark lines, only for a second; however, if I run some prana the<br>sight can extend to five seconds. I have no idea what these lines are or what they do though. I talked  
>about them to my princess once… she just gave me a worried look and told me it was lunacy possibly<br>caused by something fey. She was obviously lying but I did not question her further because I accepted  
>this as an anomaly that caused me no problems. The door creaked open and my princess came out with<br>a large blanket, a basket full of bread, and a pot of sweet smelling fish stew. She instantly asked me if I  
>had learnt my lesson. I told her that she was a princess so she should just leave to cooking to me. She<br>came up and hit me and told me pointedly that she would not tolerate eating dried meat for another  
>whole month. I smiled softly and took the pot and the basket out of her hands and placed them on the<br>stump, then in one swift motion I pulled her close to me and made her sit. I wrapped the soft blanket  
>around us and told her that she should not have knit this. That earned me another hit. I then swooped in<br>and tenderly kissed her cheek and she flinched. She felt guilty about me putting up with getting hit so  
>many times. She turned her face away from mine and told me in a quiet voice to start eating. I gently<br>patted her head and began to eat. After the eventless dinner we just sat there huddled under the  
>blanket, her head rested on my shoulder watching the glistening stars and the fully waxed moon. These<br>are the tender days I wish to keep.

* * *

><p>The fanfare of the king's trumpets put me out of my thoughts. I looked at the players in a<br>relatively annoyed way and they quickly quieted. I walked up to the king's throne and saw my opponent  
>for today. He seemed like an average farm boy, there was no air of nobility around him, he was average.<br>Even the tunic and leggings he was wearing gave him an average look.

"Aha" the king roared "Cu Chulainn the blue haired beast of Ulster has arrived, hide your wife, and hide  
>your daughters!"<p>

All the couturiers laughed incessantly.

"I'm married." I said flatly.

"So are we," exclaimed the King still laughing. His arms were wide open showing that he meant  
>everyone in the hall "and we also HAVEN'T had any dalliances either, hehehe."<p>

"Hide your wife!" came a shout left.

"Hide your daughters!" came a shout right.

"Even hid your mothers, hahaha-"

Splat, blood ran like a river from the couturier that just spoke. The boy quickly pierced the neck of that  
>man with an expressionless face and eyes of a murderer. The couturiers that surrounded the corpse<br>quickly shuffled back. The king was speechless and grew purple. I raised my arm and signaled that I  
>would handle this.<p>

"Boy, why would you do such a thing?"

"He insulted you, why did YOU not attack him? He shamed your name, and now you will go into the epics  
>as an… a-a-adulter."<p>

"Well I'll be dead by then so-"I shrugged "Boy, why do you even care? What is even your name?"

He looked at me with the eyes of a desperate man and quietly mouthed.

"If I were not under a command, there is no man in the world to whom I would soon tell it to than  
>yourself, for I love your face."<p>

I shrugged again, probably a geas…

-_A memory flashed_

_A shadowy star swept sky, a younger me and a woman holding her cloak close to her body. _

"_Rule One: To not answer his name when asked."_

The sudden memory was shattered as the boy charged at me with twin short swords. I twirled into a half  
>circle motion and quickly took out a dagger. I swung at the striking blade and the striking blade<br>shattered, but in that instant the boy was able to cast an Uruz onto the remaining sword and sliced  
>my dagger as if it was butter. Nodding in amusement, I cast an Ihwaz on to my own fist and made<br>sure the prana output was higher than his sword's and smashed my fist into both the sword and his  
>chest. The dagger was smashed and he was thrown back tumbling and rolling. No, he was not dead and<br>yes, he would keep on attacking. So I ran at him and taking out a javelin from that cloak. Upon reaching  
>striking distance I let the spear fly. The boy quickly got up and…<p>

took out a shield with a Hagalaz and a Berkanan on top of it.

Spikes.

Aife's Blessing: Eruption of a Thousand Thorns.

The javelin was twisted and bent because of the brambles. I furrowed my brow and nodded to myself.  
>Yes, there would be one way to test out that theory. I quickly pulled out five throwing knives embedded<br>with Ansu as the boy pushed his shield forward as a makeshift weapon. The knives quickly latched  
>on to the shield and burnt the bungling briers revealing the shining iron. Then in one swift motion I<br>pulled out my ravenous red spear from the cloak just now threw away. Without needing to enchant  
>the spear, I thrust Gae Bolg shattering the shield.<p>

The crowd gasped at the revealing of Gae Bolg and the king was visibly shaken.

"A thousand barbs will come out of that spear," they all whispered "run away or you may be caught."

The boy looked at Gae Bolg flatly, not understanding the true meaning, then his cold eyes pierced me "I  
>won't lose to you; I can accept loss from anyone, except YOU!"<p>

_-A memory flashed_

_The starry sky paled in comparison to the bright crescent moon that night. The lady had turned away  
>from me. Sensing an urgency in the air, I turned her towards me and noticed she was crying.<em>

"_Rule Two: To not back down from a fight."_

Right in front of my face he drew two Ehwaz in the air. I moved trying to plunge my spear into his  
>gut but he was already behind me with a sword aloft. I spun my spear like a quarter-stick diverting the<br>blade away and stabbed again. He was behind me. This would happen again and again, each time he  
>would cast a new rune and each time his attacks would get faster and faster, wilder and wilders until…<p>

I was slain.

"Druilire, Uruz."

A strike from the left.

"Bladhm, Kauno."

A strike from the right.

"Sa, Tiwaz."

A thrust at my head.

"Docht, Ihwaz."

A kick to my legs.

"Cabhlach, Ehwaz."

A strike to my neck.

"Seachmall, Berkanan and Dagaz."

The boy multiplied and surrounded me. His blade was outstretched; no… their blades were also  
>outstretched.<p>

"Pinos an bhais, Thurisaz."

All the images attacked with the power of all the runes that were cast.

At that moment my finger traced an incomprehensible figure.

"Idirlinn, Hagalaz Ehwaz."

The boy caught up too quickly, he knew what the rune meant; however, one second was all I needed.  
>The non-illusionary body reached out.<p>

"Sca…"

He would never make it. Either way such a minor rune would never stop mine.

"Fuinneamh, Othila."

All the prana in the area centered to where I was and…

"Pleasc, Sowilo."

It burst and washed the world white. Among the din came a tiny but resolute voice.

"Cosain, Algiz."

The world came back into view and the boy was standing. It was so pitiful; he had slashes and scratches  
>all over him. One of his arms was dangling uselessly; he looked about the collapse at any moment. Yet in<br>a way… it was beautiful that a person would still go on after this, ignoring his imminent death.

"Go home boy, you will not find your revenge here."

"I-I cannot turn back even if I am like this, even if I am about to die, I cannot turn back."

I looked down and activated my magic circuits, all then of them,even if my father never had any and my  
>mother had the normal amount for a druid. Energy flows into my body, my body heat rises, and I…<p>

"Breise, Hagalaz Mannaz ."

Light flowed from me; this is what proves my ancestors were gods.

_-A memory flashed_

_Her stomach was indeed waxed and she was crying, was she really that sad I was leaving or rather  
>because I had resolved her conflict with her sister for her?<em>

"_Rule 3: To not change course."_

_I turned away from the woman while I still held affection for her and never looked back._

Why, Why, did these memories come up? Did this boy resemble what would be my child?

Even with the runes, each blade he took out now shattered at the touch Gae Bolg; yet he moved on,  
>every blade that shattered was renewed with a gasp and a<p>

"Cul, Fehu."

He fought on, he had cast away the last vestige of technique in this fight. Brute strength and raw ideal  
>was all that was left, yet his blows became stronger and stronger. Even with the "hero-light" he began to<br>overwhelm me and I was pushed back further and further. He had no more energy to use runes; it was  
>amazing that he had cast so many already. Using the spear like a whip I shattered both his swords. Then<br>in an instant I gathered all the "hero-light" that came from my magic circuits and then ran prana through  
>them.<p>

[ ]

It felt as if a hot iron rod was inserted in my spine. It was searing, it was painful, and it was relentless.  
>Gasping for breath I whispered<p>

"Scrois, Hagalaz Ingwaz."

The boy was thrown back about a hundred meters and I got on all fours. He died. Even if at this moment  
>he was still falling and breathing; he died because… I had started to run at him. With fifty meters left I<br>leapt up in the air… and cast the final die.

"Face the spear that secured your fathers path towards death Son of Ferdiad! Gae…"

The lance of causality joins with the words to form a tapestry of action.

"Bolg-!"

I smash down the attack with that roar.

Gae Bolg: Thrusting Lance of Death Flight

This is the correct way to use the weapon, and the very reason why Ferdiad named my attack when I KIL  
>ED him. A lance that cannot be avoided. This is Gae Bolg, lance of destruction created to kill someone who<br>could no longer stand living as a concept.

The spear approaches. The boy is not looking at the spear but rather straight at me. He is angry and sad.  
>Did my words finally reach his ears?<p>

He casts in desperation. He casts with both hands. The prana he is emitting is enough to destroy his  
>magic circuit and cripple him for life. Yet he still casts, and then places his hand on to the ground and<br>with a resolve that matches that of the gods casts-

Aife's Blessing: Eruption of a Thousand Thorns

A truly fitting spell for the son of Ferdiad and the White Princess.

The ground upheaves and creates a shield for the boy to hide to behind.

The lance crashes into the gigantic wall of briers and thorns. The lance of death that penetrates every  
>wall and maneuvers any evasion…<p>

That lance is stopped.

The boy does not hide behind the shield that he has been created for protecting himself though. He takes  
>out a gigantic thorn, his hands must be bloodied; yet he has secured a makeshift weapon, he believes it<br>is his victory.

The boy with a spear and the me who has thrown my trump card. He is prepared to jump away from the  
>shield. He gets into motion and…<p>

The door smashes open and my princess screams:

"-STOPPPP!-"

She is too late. The son of Ferdiad jumps at me and swings the spear.

It never reaches me. His makeshift spear is thrown away because of the shock. It clatters uselessly on  
>the floor.<p>

The spear had pierced him the moment the name was called. His shield protected him, but the moment he  
>left it's protection... It is a strike that will never miss, Ferdiad's son just gave it a chance to complete its hunt.<br>Gae Bolg blooms like a rose in the boy's chest.

While still in mid-air he smiles grimly and says to me.

"S-She never taught me, 'that'…"

My princess runs and tackles me, her tiny fists beating at my chest, shouting and screaming in despair.

"WHY! WHY! WHY! DID YOU KILL HER?" she does not stop ponding my chest and hot, angry tears start  
>streaming down her face.<p>

I look to the boy. Her glassy eyes are not looking at anything now. She cruelly smiles and says

"I am Connla. W-We…We would have carried the flag of Ulster to the gates of Rome and beyond."

_-A memory flashes _

_The setting sun gives the hills a golden feeling. I find this place to be the perfect place for a golden  
>separation. After all this is the boundary of the Country of Shadows where she lives and the Country of<br>Light where I hail from._

_I look at my feet not knowing quite what to say. When I left for this country I never thought I'd be in this  
>mess after all. I turn my head awkwardly to see Feridiad was waiting for me next to the boat.<em>

"_H-Hey Aife."_

_She looks at me with no emotion at all. Is she holding it all it, or is that really what she thought of me?_

"_When you have that son… please call him Connla."_

_She looks at me first in puzzlement then cutely smiles._

"_That name sounds exactly like something you'd come up with."_

_I become flustered… so what if the name meant chief warrior… that was no excuse. _

"_And- I know this might be pushing it a bit, but can you promise me three things."_

_She smiled teasingly biting her thumb "Oh, depends what they are…"_

"_I'm serious you know!" I had to regain some dignity after all._

_She laughed and the stars that had begun the light up the sky began to laugh with her._

* * *

><p>My princess launched a final punch at my chest.<p>

"SHE WAS YOUR DAUGHTER YOU GIGANTIC STUPID IDIOT-"

I just stand there.

"-AND YOU JUST-"

"Emer, can you just be quiet for a little while." I speak so softly that she stops and starts to tear up again.

I embrace her close to me, shielding her away from the corpse of a third person that could have shared  
>that blanket in the little cottage we had, not just the blanket but... She, once the manifestation of our<br>hopes and dreams, dies bleeding away.

She, she really looks like a girl now. Her skin is pale as a corpse, her hair is like rust, she was only about  
>seven or eight at the most, she really was just a girl clothed in steel to become that boy I had told Aife I<br>had always wanted. The reason why she looked like such an average boy must have been because of the  
>glamor she had cast. I was tactless; I called her son of Ferdiad. Not being recognized by your own<br>father… must have hurt.

In this one moment of ponderment that lasts an eternity I wonder about that boy with the eyes that  
>could see death. He eventually went insane. I liken my own situation to his, but I am unable to draw<br>any parallels. He became a god because there was nothing holding him down, nothing anchoring him.  
>He probably viewed this as a good thing. But… it's not, is it? He never understood anyone; therefore, no<br>one understood him. Was that… really his choice? He must have been lonely; he must have wanted to  
>someone to respond. Is that why he sired me? Was I really supposed to save him? If so, I pity him so<br>much more, and refuse to save him. A job like that would be out of duty. It maybe is what he wants, but  
>not what he needs. I look down and see my princess' tear stricken face. Yes, this is what he needs,<br>someone that will kick you when you need it, someone that will cry for you when you cannot. He  
>desperately needs that person; because, if he doesn't…<p>

I believe one day he will give up and hate the world.

So,

someone-

no-

anyone-

please-

save him.


	6. into Berserker: nearing Apart

into Berserker: nearing Apart

"_-Mad warrior._

_The giant is insane, but still the same. He is still fighting his battle against Saber. He is blind and insane,  
>his life has ended twice over, and his body is rotting, but he's still fighting to protect Ilya."<em>

_-Emiya Shirou, Fate/stay night_

"The scenery you see is magnificent; even an ordinarily boring landscape would look beautiful. But that's  
>not the impulse you feel when you look down onto the world you live in. The overlooking view only<br>gives one impulse. That is being "far." A vision too big creates a vivid separation between you and the  
>world. People can only feel safe around things close to them. If the vision is too large, discrepancies<br>occur. The ten meter area around you, that you actually feel and the ten kilometers you are looking  
>down on. They are both the world you live in, yet you feel the first was more real. It is more correct to<br>recognize the larger world you live in rather than the small space. But no matter how you try, you  
>cannot feel that you are living on this world. What feels more real is always something close to you. Your<br>knowledge and your feelings will clash and one will lose. It feels like you've come to a place faraway.  
>You will drown another will and end up crazy. A vision is not what your eyes see, but it's an image your<br>brain comprehends. Your vision is protected by you common sense. However, humans live with a  
>mental overlooking view; the larger the mind the higher it will go, but it will never leave its box. Humans<br>are made to live in a box, and they can only survive in a box. Humans cannot have the view of gods.  
>However when one's mental vision does happen to surpass a certain boundary… Hypnos will turn into<br>Thanatos." She regards me with flat and cold eyes.

She, with alabaster skin and silver thread-like hair tied up into a neat yet primal bun deeply contrasted  
>the sky that was on fire behind Her. The setting sun flickered against the golden sky searing an<br>everlasting mark and the light breezes blew Her pale robe in a fluttering motion, yet Her tiara, that  
>denoted her status as princess of the gods made sure none of Her hair was out of place.<p>

I looked down at the place that I stood; a cliff face exactly 500 meters above sea level. I breathed in the  
>sharp, salty, sea air slowly no longer paying attention to Her. I tried to fear the foaming waves and<br>sharp jagged rocks, but I felt nothing, nothing of the impulse She told me about, nothing of the  
>emotions a fuller man would feel, nothing of the impending death I faced. Simply, I understood nothing.<p>

And that is-

-the moment I began my reverie.

* * *

><p><em>I gazed down on he who was standing on the boundary of life and death. He was no longer<br>looking or listening to Me. It seemed that he was now in his own reverie. I decided to at least allow him  
>this mercy.<em>

_One hour passes and he looks back at me. I am able to make out a lion roaring from one eye and a  
>profound sadness in the other. Unflinchingly I looked straight into those well-deep eyes and ask:<em>

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_He shakes his head and returns to his reverie and I remember My own dream…_

_-_The _image_ of _a_ dragonfl_y buzzing _busily_…_

* * *

><p><em>Another hour passes and he looks back at Me. So strong… that is all that his posture shows. It<br>shows his strength and defiance against the world but nothing else. Maybe once upon a time there was  
>something, now, nothing. This time I was able to make out a snake hissing from one eye and a profound<br>sadness in the other. Unflinchingly I look straight into those well-deep eyes and ask:_

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_He shakes his head and returns to his reverie and I remember My own dream..._

_-A _butterfly _came _to_ follow _but_ I _did_ not _slow_ down-_

* * *

><p><em>Another hour passes and he looks at Me. I let the breeze sweep over me in peace. However I am<br>worried about the sadness I saw in his eyes. Was it the same sadness as the time before? Sadness… and  
>emotion… to be sad is to hurt, yet why doesn't his face look like it hurt? I am able to make out a leaping<br>hind from one eye and a profound sadness in the other. Unflinchingly I look straight into those well-deep  
>eyes and ask:<em>

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_He shakes his head and returns to his reverie and I remember My own dream…_

_-The _butterfly _eventually _could _not _keep_ up _and _fell _as_ it _was_ about _to_ go _out _of _my _vision-_

* * *

><p><em>Another hour passes and he looks at Me. Fool, I berate myself. Of course that sadness was the<br>same sadness I saw each hour. No continual burden hurts so much, so therefore it must be a continuous  
>burden. But such a burden… why does it look so, so, heavy? I am able to make out a stubborn boar in<br>one eye and a profound sadness in the other. Unflinchingly I look straight into those well-deep eyes and  
>ask:<em>

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_He shakes his head and returns to his reverie and I remember My own dream…_

_-It _falls_ in _an_ arc. _The_ falling _motion_ is _like_ that _of _a _snake_; it _looks_ like _a_ broken _lily_. The _image _is _surprisingly_ sad-_

* * *

><p><em>Another hour passes and he looks at Me. Point, no point in waiting for him… he will never move. I<br>am what I am, a goddess, there is no joy or triumph in this occupation. Is that all I see it as… an  
>occupation? I am able to make out a stable. The sheer amount of horses surprises and fills me with some sort<br>of awe, exactly how many horses did he see with that eye of his. This scene is limited to one eye though;  
>the other one exhibited a profound sadness. I looked into his well-deep eye and asked:<em>

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_He shakes his head and returns to his reverie and I go back into My dream._

_-Even _though_ we _cannot _go _together_, I _should _have _at_ least _stayed _by _its_ side _a _bit _longer_-_

* * *

><p><em>Another hour is passing and the sky is now dark yet lit up by My half-sister. The colour of<br>moonshine washes the cliff face and everything sparkles as if the night whispers "magic." Neither of us  
>noticed. I am strained and frustrated at his inaction, and he is just standing there as he has for the past<br>five hours. I get angry; I don't know why I am this angered. In all of My existence I've never… Never mind  
>I figured it out.<em>

_He was about to die._

_He was going to die._

_He knew this and he was prepared for this. So prepared that he called me to…_

_So why, after all that… did his resolve just shatter?_

_Why is he just standing there possibly regretting everything that happened to him in his life?_

_Why is he trying to view everything he did as worthless?_

_Do you really want to die when obviously there is so much that hasn't seen solved?_

_I-I really don't want anyone to die like that._

_What events in his life led his to the conclusion that he has to die when obviously… obviously… he is  
>regretting everything?<em>

_I want to see._

_I want to know._

_I am a goddess. I am made from the dreams and desires of mankind, and I want to know why it has to be._

_So I do something forbidden._

_And he lets me. _

_A switch… a switch. _

_It has finished pumping and then the firing hammer smashed into my brain, that is My switch._

_I run prana through My magic circuits and spread a web of thought. _

_My senses _wish the sun was up _multiply and all fauna_ need to find a mate_ and flora become one with_ a  
>couple both drinking poison <em>Me My consciousness is <em>watching the same boy sitting on the cliff face  
>waiting for his father <em>potentially connected to the abundance<em> of rain little raindrops stream down it  
>seems I will live another season <em>of life in this barren<em> hellhole the man screamed at his wife he obviously  
>did not like the place I had grown up in <em>desolate wasteland even if <em>I saw a giant stepping on all my  
>brethren yet all that ran through my head was not to help my queen but to save myself that's when I<br>asked myself if I knew who I was _he was right in front_ _of_ the spear I could tell that the human would  
>murder the other human and throw him down the cliff feigning suicide us trees would never do<br>something so uncivilized _Me it took time to_ grown I remember all the hard days and the harder nights  
>trying to survive in this place I had to <em>push away all those possible connections and look <em>said the ugly  
>man child as he picked up my mother it's furry he yelled putting her close to the female man child she<br>shrieked and threw my mother off the cliff _at the one I_ love you but I could not ( ) you I _desired. Of  
>course it was very easy for him to be rid of Me all he had to do was wash his magic circuits and it would<br>drain my influence away. It seems that he decided to let Me watch this hour's memory. Slowly I could  
>see… would I understand everything I saw?<em>

* * *

><p><em>A memory is through the eye of beholder. The sights and sounds are at mercy to his<br>interpretation. "I" do not exist in this memory therefore I must experience it as he did. So when I first  
>grew conscious of My spectating I felt the crash of waves and waves of magical energy threatening to<br>wash me away from where I was standing. In this environment I was a pebble left to the mercy of the  
>vast and violent sea. Was it always like this for him? Did he face this atmosphere in each of his<br>"Labors?" After all he encountered one ancient phantasmal beast after another. Each time did he go up  
>against all of THIS? If so it is a miracle that he is on top of that cliff face right now.<em>

* * *

><p>As soon as I enter the swamp I am hit with wave after wave of magical energy. I feel like a<br>pebble cast into the vast and violent sea. However this is a scene I have faced many a time. There is no  
>space for me to move back, there is no place for me to stand; therefore, I must move forward and look<br>for a space. I look up to see the flock of bronze cast birds and _they are beasts of Gaia _I see the lake and  
>more Stymphalian birds. Picturesque as this environment is <em>they are danger they are a threat to Us <em>I  
>start to wonder why anyone would want these birds killed. I think <em>the gods are scared they are scared of<br>the beasts they can harm humanity they can implant fear they can corrupt man's dreams and desires  
>and eventually corrupt even the gods themselves and humans can't kill them but they can kill humans<br>therefore they can kill human dreams_ a normal arrow will not complete the job; however, there seems  
>to be no point of using my club. I estimate how much energy is needed and quietly take out my bow<br>and silently notch an arrow. I cautiously aim and with a snap let the arrow fly. I am instantly _exhilarated  
>at the idea of a dead beast of Gaia <em>regretful about killing such beautiful beast. The light catches on their  
>feathers creating a mirror like effect that lights up the area. Especially during this sunset it is <em>ugly<br>_beautiful. My arrow was precise but it never hit, it quickly burned up when it encountered the magical  
>energy the <em>demon<em> bird was emitting. This caught the attention of the rest of the birds and they rose up  
>the look on their faces spelling <em>you will die die die you should have killed all of them in one shot that is<br>what a surprise attack is you fool fool fool I love you and wished to( ) _what my fate is if I do not act  
>quickly. They plunge at me but I do not care <em>but you have something you cannot surrender that is I could<br>not_ ( ) they can try to attack me all they want they will never reach _you will never reach my core you  
>will never ( ) <em>me. If they cannot reach me, they cannot harm me. I throw _the bodies of ( )  
>around what once seemed so lively are now like ragdolls<em> the Nemean lion's hide into the air and pulled  
><em>and crushed ( ) little bones why did I do such a thing<em> out my stone axe-sword and stood into a  
>stance. The bird's beaks could not penetrate the lion's skin and that allowed me to set-<p>

Nine Lives Blade Works: Shooting the Hundred Heads

I was going against a multitude of foes so I would not have to aim _for the head aim for the heart aim for  
>anything that will kill these insolent ( ) faster<em> for any specific parts. Using my free arm I grab the Lion  
>hide and throw it back out of the way along with the birds still stuck to it and jump into a vortex of<br>action. The sound of all the birds screeching is shattered by my ascension into godspeed.

Torrent and swirling vigor.

In an instant all the once beautiful birds in my range are reduced to a  
>bloodied mess <em>like your ( ) were<em> but that is not the whole flock. Some manage to use their inherent  
>magical energy to create a <em>massacre yes it cannot be called anything other than a massacre do you<br>deserve to live anymore_ shield in which those at the front die to allow those at the back to live. Even if it  
>is disgusting <em>everything you see is disgusting this trail you are walking on that house that you are<br>supposed to live in that grotesque garden where your condescending ( ) grow food that doesn't taste  
>like anything just kill it just kill everything after all what are gods for<em> it allows those at the back to  
>survive and attack. That is something <em>she did<em> beautiful the idea of self-sacrifice _makes me want to vomit  
><em> makes me smile, is it because they are not human that they are able to do such things, no_ they are  
>beasts of Gaia they are harbingers of death and death of those close to you ha actually you dont have<br>anyone left now do you you you you _they love each other they have lived together for so long that…  
>sorry <em>serves you right I roared as I beheaded the enemy commander in all my rage and set for my long<br>journey home my disgusting human home _but I have to do this for _ooo my father who art in the heavens_  
>her.<p>

I throw my axe-sword at the flock and they assemble in that turtle formation. The sword thrown is like a  
>missile it plows and mows the first layer of birds and kills all of them after that the magical energy<br>proves too strong for the sword to move any further so it drops _they are like ragdolls after all like  
>everything that was ever mine they always broke after I had played with them toys toys toys it seems<br>that I was too strong for anything everything broke when I touched it that is when I saw I was not  
>human rather I was a <em>to the ground creating an little crater. The aim of such a desperate move was the  
>buy me the time that it would take to roll into a position steady enough to fire <em>surrounded the<br>disgusting little house the ragdolls all glassy eyed the upholstery all the house was on fire and I was  
>laughing after all I was better than this I should not live here I am made of the desires and hopes of<br>mankind I am _my bow however this time it would be:

Nine Lives

An arrow was notched. This was the attack that _annihilated my ( ) _I used to destroy the Hydra. By  
>supplying magical energy continuously I am able to fire continuously. Whoever I shoot at is faced with a<br>wall of arrows it even looks like _I ripped their faces off I ripped their bodies into pieces _one arrow has  
>become hundreds. This is Nine Lives, the bow that destroyed the Hydra.<p>

A wall of arrows against a wall of fodder.

The first waves of arrows were instantly disintegrated by the sheer amount of magical energy being  
>emitted. However the next wave of arrows drew closer and closer. This was something that the<br>_inhabitants of the house did not expect what had they expect I was Me what had they expect _birds did  
>not expect. Hyrda blood coated all these arrows; Hydra blood which applies the concept "corrosion" on<br>the soul of anything that is touched. This included the _bodies already strewn around the walls_ magical  
>energy that these birds emit. So this is what it had come to. Eventually the birds were faced with fight<br>or flight. Those that flew away did so with their remaining magical energy and those that chose to  
>fight…<p>

instantly corroded into nothing.

The birds that flew _turned to dust everything turned to dust in the end everything I questioned myself  
>even to gods yes I think they do I told myself because all the gods are are the dreams and desires of<br>mankind but what are not devils just the dreams and hopes of mankind no if the gods are all that is  
>good in this world the devils are all that is evil in this world really but dont both grant human wishes<br>dont they grant them in the simplest way possible so is all this justified yes this will become justified  
><em>perched in the trees. I would no longer be able to hit them with my bow, yet they're still about fifty in  
>number. By sacrificing the larger population those that were left survived. With nothing to do I sit down<br>and just look _there it is your house the house you built you are a human what you built was so disgusting  
>burn it down and build a palace fit for a ( ) destroy all ants that scuttle around that hut and invite<br>your true people My people _at my hands, so much blood had stained these hands, that make me  
>wonder if I really will find atonement in staining these hands with even more blood. But I don't want<br>atonement all I really ever wanted to do was to make her wish come true _that maybe your mother is the  
>get of man but no one looks at the mother they only look at the father let's face it this is a society set up<br>for men therefore you should flaunt it flaunt it I say _so if I can't achieve even that…

There was no time to finish that thought I was tapped on the shoulder by a pale porcelain hand. From  
>that touch I knew <em>it's sister it's sister o my sister my dear dear sister welcome can You see Me see Me<br>not the bumbling fool in front of you but rather a Me _it was a god and quickly turned around and bowed.  
>Pallas Athena stood gloriously with the Aegis covered with silk in one hand and a spear in the other. She<br>did not look at me but rather _at Me_ into me and shook her head.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with such things from 'Mother.'" She almost spat out the last word.

I just looked at her _with blinding admiration _blankly and she sighed.

She reached for her back and brought forth a rattle.

"It's a krotla made in the forge of Hephaestus." She explained as she handed me the godly weapon.

I held the object in my fist _that crushed anyone that went against Me_ and examined the bronze exterior  
>I chuckled an emotionless laugh.<p>

"Hephaestus really doesn't like any ornamentation does He?"

Athena _My sister_ put her hand to her mouth and also laughed, she nodded approvingly. Maybe it was  
>also because she wasn't Hera's daughter that we got along well <em>no its because of Me. <em>

"Quickly finish this Labor, Everyone is waiting for you to do so."

My eyes narrowed at the mention "Who is Everyone?"

She had already turned around and started to leave. She put a hand up in farewell and silently  
>disappeared<em> no take Me with you<em> from the forest.

I slowly move to collect my possession, conceptual weapons that I threw around like dirt. Truly I am  
>empty as I cannot find value in even these object. I look at the krotla and wonder what concept it<br>inscribes to the soul? _it's fear you blundering fool Anyone could see that much why am I stuck with you  
>why was I born you w<em>hy did you kill everyone that I cared about? It has an answer but it will not speak it,  
>not yet, after all that is the way misguided souls use the curses of mankind to bring about happiness.<br>They _We_ are the hopes and dreams of mankind, but the hope and dream of mankind is _to save yourself  
><em>to save the individual at all cost. Never be blessed by a god because _imagine a situation where you have  
>been blessed by Me how does one define blessed it can be defined as something good not dying when<br>everyone else dies is something good so if I kill everyone other than you then you are blessed I do not  
>have to give you happiness I just have to give you unsadness <em>you will end up cursed.

I am not trying simply because I have time Athena said _no you dont have time after all remember _that  
>Everyone was waiting for me. Gods do not love because they are not human; I know this first-hand. The<br>psychopath that is _here right here _is the part of me that is supposed to be divine He is nothing but rage,  
>hate, madness. He is jealous, jealous of the fact that he was not born to Olympus but here, that is<br>something _the concept of the krotla is fear the medium that it uses is sound by shaking the item on a  
>mountain I will be able to cast the concept onto the soul and they will flee it is at that point where I will<br>fire THOSE arrows _I pity so much, He doesn't see that his plan will not work. "Corrosion" against their  
>"self-sacrificing Love" we all know which one will survive. He simply refuses to accept that knowledge.<p>

"Quickly finish this Labor," She said it. It seems it'll take longer than She thought.

She said _everyone is waiting for You do to so She said and I must I must I must I must I must reach the  
>point that I never reached I must reach it why why why because I am a ( ) that is my future that is My<br>destiny that is My everything that is My everything that is why I swept away all the miscellaneous junk  
>that he accumulated everyone believes that this is his story but no its Mine everything is Mine this<br>horrible grotesque blue sky that seems to scream harmony this blue sky that is so all encompassing that  
>no one can say they hold all of it no there is someone that can that is Me I can hold it if I can escape<br>from this shell of a person the trail under his feet is bumpy and uncomfortable at best but it is okay finish  
>this quickly she said Everyone is waiting for You she definitely said You she said You You You You not you<br>yes I'll say it now I killed them I killed all I will answer that question that you posed to Me why did I kill  
>everyone that you care about it is because you don't care about them they are all illusions humans<br>mortals they are all limits they are all walls they call me a madness they call me a wraith they call me a  
>specter rage I hate hate hate that because I know it's true because I am I am a madness to humans I am<br>a wraith of a god I am even a specter of one but I will achieve it one day there is no atonement all this is  
>a trial for Me to become a god that is all you not find anything here nothing to calm everything that has<br>been crushing your heart that has been tormenting your soul nothing do you hear why else are you so  
>empty "<em>You do not understand me."

Those were the words She left me. She said it while She was smiling, it is a wonder that such a shy girl  
>would say something like that after She was brutally ( ) by me. Now I give those words to You.<br>We murdered her, that is something I accepted, I accept it even now as I trek up this unforgiving  
>mountain. You on the other hand deny it, you deny with you assumption that You are indeed a god.<br>Your greatest fear is that you will are actually a _dont you dare say it_ that is _shut shut up shut up shut up  
>shut up what about your own fear you mr righteous of all righteous what about your fear you fear<br>reality so much that you cant even say it she was brutally ( ) by Us what is all that there is a gap yes  
>your fear is in the gap itself you are just Me then if that is what you say. <em>He is in a rage so he cannot  
>accept anything; he is exactly like a God or a ( ) , he is to quote Her:<p>

"You do not understand me."

He is unchanging and unadaptable that is the reason he is throwing painful _snakes at birth at birth you  
>were unwanted things wanted you dead dead dead you are worthless you are dangerous why else<br>would they be sent to kill you_ memories at me. I trudge up with this overwhelming _feeling of hate beside  
>you you know right that Hera hates you She wants to be rid of you how I shudder to think how it felt to<br>be hated by a god from birth hated simply because you exist_ weight behind me. I move forward and  
>forward because that is the only way I know. Yea, She hated me from birth I accept that after all I have<br>nothing left, what about You? She hated You from birth as well. I spit that thought back at the divinity  
>that possess my soul, He does not care and keeps throwing torrent <em>of rage torrents of blood it is a<br>battlefield after all I see you with your axe-sword dripping with blood seriously is that all you can do  
>you're not trying to kill them hahaha its a battlefield after all they are worms worms under Us so you<br>should treat them as such what have they done to you after all they hate and curse you_ after torrent of  
>memories. Two can play that game, I decide that, yes I will "Quickly finish this Labor" after all these are<br>not only labors of the body they are labors of the soul. I reach into my mind which I have locked for so  
>long and find snakes She sent SNAKES after You as a child I simply nodded Her shock was very<br>uncharacteristic but I felt the love in her concern I slowly brought her closer and said well I'm here right  
>now arent I so its okay memory after memory of happiness memory after memory of those that<br>brought me joy but they are only memories; still even memories are enough to hold her for the first  
>time she seemed so fragile so precious like a clay doll she reached out like a babies do and put her tiny<br>hands around my thumb the woman behind me smiled gently and I promised to protect this tiny  
>happiness forever this self-proclaimed specter of a god off. Deeper Deeper I reach and spoon out those<br>long forgotten memories, the ones I kept safe from Him. The ones that:

He shall not defile

He shall not deny

He shall not defy

The memories that are so precious to me are now overflowing and encompassing me as I trudge up this  
>mountain. Trudge turns into walk and even that turns to run I run the only way I know how I run into<br>You I remember the moment we met ahhhh such a long dusted memory now isnt You were definitely  
>my goddess you refuted that and said I was only trying to flatter and grew red much like your pink rose<br>coloured hair you closed your eyes and shook your head slowly but I meant those words I run forward  
>towards the peak of this mountain. Memories of <em>a wall of arrows ends the lives of those next to me why<br>why did they not touch me me who was so exposed o thats I was holding the battering ram so I  
>definitely needed to survive <em>hate, war, blood juxtapose with memories of a picnic beside the lake You in  
>a loose gown watching the children playing the sparkling water thinking that this is dream but being<br>reassured after being softly pinched by a mischievously smiling You hmmmm You were not really that  
>gentle now were You You pretended to be innocent but in reality You tried to tease me whenever You<br>could sorry memories like these swirl in a spiral of conflict two sides there is not boundary of emptiness  
>in this war of personalities.<p>

_and_ then…

_I _reach _it _I _find _the _memory _the _memory _that _brings _me_ dizzing _hope _and _Him _crestfallen _despair.

_It is the same memory._ It is the same memory.

_This is My everything. _This is my everything.

_This is the sum of My hopes. _This is the sum of my hopes.

_This is the sum of My life. _ This is the sum of my life.

_This is the sum of My future. _This is the sum of my future.

_This is the beginning of everything I hold dear_ and the end for everything that I hold dear.

_This _is_ the _memory_ that _answers _the _question_, just _what _happened _on_ that _fateful _day _of_ darkness._

Just _what_ happened_?_

* * *

><p>I walk down the trail towards that house that I call home with memories of <em>a wall of arrows ends<br>the lives of those next to me_ that is what war is I am just pleased I survived yet another battle. My head  
>pounds and He makes an appearance. <em>Everything you see is disgusting, this trail you are walking on,<br>that house that you are supposed to live in, that grotesque garden where your condescending children  
>grow food that doesn't taste like anything, just kill it.<em> I close my eyes and try to calm it down. This voice  
>is the reason why Megara did not like me staying away from her for too long. She is known as a<br>Synchronizer, a being that is able to transfer energy with the contact of bodily fluids but more than that  
>she is able to serve as an anchor. You see that voice is the half of me that is "divine" whether it is a devil<br>or a god remains _just kill everything after all what gods are for _to be seen. Being away from Her  
>weakens the contract and being away for extended periods of time may nullify the contract. That being<br>said I only have heard this from Her so I am unsure.

I arrive at the front door of my house intact. I prepare to knock on the door and be greeted with the  
>innocent smiles of my children and deep sea stone eyes of my beloved. <em>The<em> _inhabitants of the house  
>did not expect that it was not he who would open the door but Me. I swiftly take control of his actions.<br>He has been away from the witch for far too long and I am easily able to take control of this body. The  
>door opens and all I see is a battlefield and under foot are worms. I take the two children with beaming<br>faces and thrown them against the wall. They will not die from that though. The woman's face becomes  
>sharp. She knows that her contract has been nullified and knows that this isn't her husband. She is the<br>first I need to take out. I grab her struggling body and plow it into the ceiling there is not mercy for her. I  
>need to become a god so I must let go of my earthy bonds. She loses consciousness instantly and I move<br>on back to the children. They cry, they sob, the howl for their mother and for their father to save them.  
>Smart children, children always go to people that can help them. I grab the boy by the leg and the girl by<br>the arm and I throw_ _the bodies of his children around, what once seemed so lively are now like ragdolls  
><em> _and crushed little bones why did I do such a thing? They are like ragdolls after all like everything that  
>was ever mine they always broke after I had played with them it seems that I was too strong for<br>anything. Everything broke when I touched it, that is when I noticed I was not human rather I was a god.  
>All gods are, are the dreams and desires of mankind, but; what are devils? Just the dreams and hopes of<br>mankind. No, if the gods are all that is good in this world the devils are all that is evil in this world really,  
>but don't both grant human wishes don't they grant them in the simplest way possible so is all this<br>justified I am a god and all I am doing is granting my own wish. Sighing to myself I go and retrieve the  
>flint, I know where it is because of his memories. I quickly light the fireplace and deposit the smoking<br>logs around the house. I am quite literally cleansing this unholy shrine. He called her, her, this pitiful  
>weak woman his goddess, I am sure even the most pitiful goddess could withstand this much. Fire<br>quickly_ _surrounded the disgusting little house, the ragdolls all glassy eyed, the upholstery, all the house  
>was on fire; and I was laughing after all I was better than this I should not live here I am made of the<br>desires and hopes of mankind I am a God I am everything. The house begins to crumble and everything  
>turns to dust. I know now I am one step closer to my accession and I walk out with my arms outstretched<br>towards the boundless sky which one day I will own. _

_A weak hand is clasped onto My ankle. A delicate, fragile hand, it feels like a worm to Me. I turn around  
>and shake it off it seems the woman is still alive. Well I never ended her life. She is crying, you called this<br>pathetic thing your goddess?_

"…_.." she murmurs something._

_I disregard the words I cannot hear._

"_I'm…I'm…"_

_I stop, _and I return no He still holds my body but I think her words reached me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," She weeps for You, You idiot. "I love you but I could not save you, I could not  
>save either of you, I am so sorry."<p>

_Everything that was white with My purity. _Everything that was black with His rage.

_Turns black with his useless feelings._ Turns white with the emotions for the one I hold so dear to me.

"_You do not understand me." She said those words in scorn towards Me._

"You do not understand me." She said those words and I understood everything.

_While still retaining whatever control I had over the body I move away from the house._

She never chased happiness in her life. She never did that was what I did understand. None of what we  
>did made her happy. All she wanted was to save me. Not just me she wanted to save You as well.<br>Everything centered on that goal and now it is all naught. So I finally understand now. I love her. I really  
>do, so that means I have to complete her goal even if right now my heart is breaking, my soul is hurting,<br>and my brain is telling me to die. Even if all this is going on I have to live I have to live this void and  
>empty life to save myself. I have to save myself not to reach salvation but to show her that her effort<br>was not in vain and that everything she wanted was here. Yes, the twelve labors to rid myself of this  
>madness they were created to give her the salvation she needs. Never was this a quest for atone never<br>was this anything but the actions that would be needed to save her. I am beyond salvation I know that  
>much at least but she's not, I murdered her, but I loved her so-<p>

I reach it the top of mountain and there is no voice that needs to be quelled. He stopped when He  
>realized the fact that someone wished for His happiness. He was the lonely one in the end, He was the<br>one that wished for acknowledgment, He was the one that was born to be loved but He was the one  
>that was also never loved.<p>

I take out my bow and notch an arrow. I slowly take out the krotla and give it shake. The world turns on  
>its head and spins back to the same direction. Prana spread across the forest and the concept of "fear"<br>is cast into the souls of those that sacrifice to save. They take off believing more sacrifices will be  
>required, they should not have done that. It is because they love too deeply that they are fearful for<br>each other's life, without love there is no fear, but I'm sure He would disagree, but He is not here right  
>now. The birds fly in the air and I ready my bow.<p>

Phantasmal beast?

Retain the structure?

Nine Lives?

What exactly made this bow so famous?

"I love you, but I couldn't save you."

That activates my switch and my circuits run with prana. Yea, I know, I know everything now. In fact  
>everything I didn't know I now know. I mold that prana and answer my own questions:<p>

Phantasmal beast?

Make the attack into an anti-phantasmal beast.

Retain the structure?

Run with prana so it appears as if more than one arrow is being fired.

Nine Lives?

A mix of Nine Lives Blade Works in addition to Nine Lives

What exactly made this bow so famous?

Destruction of the Hyrda.

I unleash the name:

Nine Lives: Shooting of the Hundred Heads

The bow that destroyed the Hyrda becomes the Hydra itself.

Nine dragon heads molded into shape with prana shoot out. Each contains triple digit units of prana. He  
>is a "god" after all, it is fitting his bodies circuits match that. The crash into each bird and each bird<br>instantly dies. The birds do no stand a chance. The prana in each dragon head is focused on piercing the  
>prana shield of the birds at one point. When it does so the bird is overwhelmed but its own prana and<br>dies. In addition the dragons are able to track prana and will destroy all concentrated masses of prana.

This is how you shoot the hundred heads.

This is a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth.

This is also the end of that cycle.

The dragons track the birds and one by one penetrate the inherent bounded field and destroy these  
>birds that live by love. I do not need to look, they have or will be all dead. I simply turn around looking<br>at the rising moon. There is not emotion in this, there is no emotion in anything, there simply is no  
>emotion at all. I descend the mountain victorious but with a bitter taste in my mouth. I once believed in<br>Victory with glory, and then I gave up. I face the moon and sigh at the thought of becoming something I  
>am not.<p>

* * *

><p><em>The hour passes and I am too shocked to look into his eyes. Shock is not the best word. I cut the<br>prana flow and think about everything I have seen. This was just one of his memories, yet it was so dark,  
>it was so lonely, it was so worthless. A person like that shouldn't die, he definitely shouldn't. Happiness,<br>he had some but that got taken away from him by Himself. I cannot look at him anymore, if so it would  
>betray the feelings I am experiencing, but I know in one eye is full of crowing birds and the other is filled<br>with a profound sadness._

"_You do not understand me." _

_Those were the words that were left. _

_Those were the words that allowed him to understand everything._

"_You do not understand me."_

_I speak very quietly not to reveal My own thoughts._

"_Will you float or will you fly?" _

_I cannot see him but I know he shakes his head and returns to his nightmare. I…_

_-But _that's_ impossible. _Because,_ since _I_ do _not_ have _my_ feet _on_ the _ground,_ I _do_ not _have_ the _freedom_ to  
><em>stand _and _stop-

* * *

><p><em>Another hour passes and everything turns to black. Everything turns to black in this overlooking<br>view. It is because either I can no longer see anything or because Hecate is ruling the night. We gods  
>inherently have the Third Magic, We are only dreams and desires, yet we are able to materialize<br>ourselves like so using our own "soul" in the astral plane, soul that made up of the hopes and dreams of  
>humanity. I may be unable to see but I know now I know that in one of his eye is rampaging bull and the<br>other one is filled with profound sadness. Being the scared to see yet being too scared to flee, I ask:_

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_I think, while in this darkness that he shakes his head and returns to his lunatic hate filled memory and I  
>return to my dream.<em>

_-The _butterfly_… it _fell _in _the_ end-_

* * *

><p><em>Another period of time that seems to be an hour passes in this self-imposed [ ] I wonder, I<br>wonder the reason for my dream. Gods do not dreams We are beings unable to do so after all, we are  
>the culmination of human dreams and hopes we do not have dreams and hopes ourselves. Yet… didn't<br>He have a dream, a dream that one that he would be accepted as a god? Definitely so much blood was  
>shed over that dream. If I were to weigh that dream against all the happiness he obtained… one would<br>easily outweigh the other. I am sure Heracles would agree with that. However we are not ones that hold  
>that dream He does. He would think the opposite, it is His dream after all, one will always believe one's<br>dream take precedent against all else. But He is not a god, he never was, all he was just a sick clump of  
>devil, yes, he may be made of the same elements that made a god but he will never be one. he will never<br>become He. There are no sharp eyed horses nor profound sadness in his eyes, he is not that type of being  
>he is everything yet he is nothing, the line that has been used unintelligibly over and over again until it<br>has lost all meaning… Yes it fits him perfectly he is just redundancy. However-_

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_I see and feel nothing but I know he shakes his head and returns to the memories that crush him and I…I  
>go back to mine.<em>

_-Maybe _she_ could _have_ flown _more_ gracefully _if_ she _had_ not _tried_ to _follow _me-_

* * *

><p><em>Enveloped in darkness in this self-imposed [ ] I yearn for nothing, not anymore, and after a time I forget<br>my purpose. I forget my form. I forget that I am made of the ( ) and ( ) of humans. Everything  
>goes away everything other than my dream and the image of his eye filled to brim with the image of<br>bloodied girdle and the other turned into the colour of a profound sadness. I speak out amongst the  
>[ ]in hope and in pain:<em>

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_Nothing absolutely nothing. It is nothing if I believe it is nothing after all, this is self-imposed. _

_-Yes, _if_ she _fluttered _as _if _to _float_, she _could_ have _been_ able _to_ fly _longer_-_

* * *

><p><em>Time passes the darkness stays steady slowly I forget, I think I want to forget but what did I want to<br>forget? Maybe I have already forgotten this so then why do I want to forget further I just do not  
>understand.<em>

"_You do not understand me."_

_Who said those words?_

"_He should be he."_

_Who asserted such a statement? I'm drifting through the cracks of a dark eternity and I can see, I can see  
>that I can see nothing. Deep in this self-imposed [ ] the world is dark but I exist. I shouldn't exist but I do<br>I exist simply because I exist that is as easy as it is. _

_Oh._

_I realize He should not be he. He believed Himself to be He. Therefore I have no right to step on that. Even  
>he who had been ( ) so deeply did not deny Him that fact. The reason why he never said He was a<br>devil was because… Sadness and self-loathing surrounds me but such vague concepts do not exist in this  
>space. All I am left with a bitter taste in my mouth and loneliness in this self-imposed [ ]. I ask myself,<br>why did I impose this? I call out, I call out to the person whose name I have forgotten the person that  
>has one eye full of the giant's cattle and the other eye filled with a profound sadness so heavy that I<br>have no hope of bearing it._

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_Nothing I am saying it to nothing but I have to keep saying even if I forgot what those words meant and  
>even if there is no one here. I must keep on saying those words. <em>

_-But _since_ the _butterfly_ knew _about _flying _it_ could _not_ stand _the_ lightness _of_ its _floating _body-_

* * *

><p><em>Another set period of time passes and I ponder, I ponder the meaning of My own words I do so<br>while I still retain My sense of self. What does it mean to float what does it mean to fly? To float is to  
>linger it is stay in one place. There is no reason in floating it is something done when there is no<br>destination in mind… then flying must be opposite to that. To fly must mean floating but with a purpose.  
>I think about the distinction, there is nothing but that… a purpose, a purpose changes floating to flying.<br>Such a statement seems so sacred yet so sad. Tears are brought to my eyes in this self-imposed [ ] why,  
>why does that distinction bring me to tears? Obvious. In this self-imposed [ ]I am unaware, I am floating<br>after all I have no purpose even if I do that purpose is forgotten. Here in this self-imposed [ ] I ask an ( )  
>filled with golden apples and an ( ) filled with a profound ( ) .<em>

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_-That's _why_ it _flew_ instead _of_ float-_

* * *

><p><em>A vague amount of time passes and while entwined in this self-imposed [ ]. I lose, I start to lose<br>everything. It seems that my purpose was to forget._

"_You do not understand me."_

_Someone said those words._

"_Will you float or will you fly?"_

_Someone asked that question_

"_That's why it flew instead of float."_

_Someone dreamt that image._

_This is a self-imposed [ ]._

"_You do not understand me."_

_A self-imposed [ ]._

"_understand me"_

"_why did it fly instead?"_

"_why _did _it _fly_ instead?"_

_It flew because…_

_this is a self-imposed [ ]_

… _because I do not have my feet on the ground I do not even have the freedom to stop it falls in an arc  
>the falling motion is like that of a snake <em>whose_ image is that of a dragonfly busily flying yes if she  
>fluttered as it to float she should have been able to fly longer <em>dream_ the butterfly fell in the end but  
>since the butterfly knew about flying it could not stand the lightness of its floating body <em>is _even if we  
>cant go together I should have at least stayed by its side longer a butterfly came to follow but I didn't<br>slow down _**this** _that is why it flew instead of float…_

"_You do not understand me."_

_Purpose purpose purpose whose dream was this. In this self-imposed [ ] where the world is crumbling  
>apart, where I no longer remember what I am I chance upon the meaning of another's dream. This was<br>never my dream never never never. _

"_You do not understand me."_

_This is understanding. She had no regrets in the end she was the butterfly that decided to fly. He was the  
>dragonfly the one that was left with so much regret. From the beginning she had decided to save him,<br>that was her everything, she fell, if she had aimed for a different dream then she may have still lived but  
>she would not be happy. That was it, she died happy, even in that hell hole laying on the burning floor<br>next to her dismembered children she… was… happy. I do not know if I should be shocked at such a  
>twisted happiness but I cannot judge. She chose to fly instead of float, She ran through her life and at<br>the end She had no regrets, even if She was a lowly human… She surpasses the existence of "gods." That  
>is all there is, this is not my dream this is his dream and in this self-imposed [ ] it is Her dream.<em>

_At the mention of Her, She materialized in this [ ] even if I have never seen her I am the ( ) of  
>mankind's ( ) and ( ) ,yet( ) forget ( ) am. She smiles; it is full of warmth and comfort<br>and with one word_

_-she breaks this self-imposed [ ]._

_And I am injected to the cold dawning sky._

_The rose sun hangs on the horizon and he opens his eyes no longer blind with madness as if waiting for  
>Me. In one eye hangs the dog of death and in the other is a final profound sadness that says: <em>

"_You do not understand me."_

_But I do, that is the reason why I can finally say this, the word that broke my self-imposed [ ]._

"_Fly"_

* * *

><p>"Fly"<p>

Her command makes her truly seem fit for Her godly role. But I cannot, I do not have a purpose anymore.  
>I have saved myself, I have completed Her wish, her wish of saving me. There is no more turning back.<br>Her command makes the world seem so full, so joyous. However She forgets, She forgets because She is  
>so preoccupied with flying that she forgets…<p>

"No. I fall."

And I turn Her Hypnos into my Thanatos.

* * *

><p><em>The waves lap up the jagged rocks that impaled him. This is no longer a man only a sack of meat,<br>however…_

"_You do not understand me."_

"_I do more than you do." I say so softly._

_His once tanned skin turns lead coloured and his wounds heal in a matter of seconds._

"_Even if you die once you have ten more to use." I say so in a chiding tone to the regenerating body._

_God's Hand: Twelve Labors_

_My gift, so you may fly higher than anyone else. Now He will protect you and nothing else. I turn and  
>fade away in the youth of the morn with a knowing smile.<em>

* * *

><p>I wake up alive and curse the gods and their overlooking view.<p>

After all

"You do not understand me."

I say that to the rising sun hoping, that idiot goddess will hear me, and then pick up my abnormal body  
>to search for another way to die.<p> 


	7. into True Assassin: eternal Entity forg

into True Assassin: eternal Entity; forgotten Fatality

"_I wondered what sort of face you had, but you had none to begin with. You didn't hide your face, but wore the mask to make people think a face lay beneath it. You lost your face and name, but you still want eternity? If you seek eternity, you should've sought to live forever. The Holy Grail can't go back into the past and regain your name. So, disappear, old man of the mountain. You are nothing but an assassin. You cannot become the one and only Hassan."_

_-Matou Sakura, Fate/stay night_

I suddenly wake up.

All I see is darkness.

There is only darkness in [ ].

I turn my head. Actually the limb known as the "head" doesn't exist here. All I turn is my consciousness  
>and I become aware of my left "arm." I turn my consciousness to my right to confirm that my other<br>"arm" is present.

I can't feel it.

I can't see it.

It is not there.

In this sea of [ ], where nothing is truly nothing I cannot feel my right "arm."

This makes me ponder is [ ] death?

Is this boundless and endless worthless expanse of nothing death?

* * *

><p>The closest sensation is clay. Moist, cool, malleable, my right arm has all the aspects of that. However, to<br>call it clay is incorrect, while it is all those, it cannot be easily cut as clay can be and with a rush of prana  
>through my magic circuits…<p>

-clay becomes Malak al Maut.

"Can you stop touching it?" my lieutenant asks with his dull raspy voice.

I immediately stop; idle action does not befit my position.

"I know spiritual surgery feels uncomfortable, however you are acting like an apprentice who has just  
>received his magic crest." He added in a chiding tone.<p>

Ahh, yes, this is why he is my lieutenant, a man with enough gall to order even Hassan-i-Sabbah around.  
>Truly a monster among monsters.<p>

We walk down the hallways of Alamut portraits of all the previous Hassans fill the walls. My  
>predecessors gaze upon me with neither judging nor accepting eye. They merely remind me of the<br>duty that is set for me. After all we've been fighting a religious war; we will recruit any and use all.  
>That is how we have survived to this day. My lieutenant hands me a roll of papyrus. It is the order for an<br>execution. I close my eyes for a moment and resign myself to this fate. This mission is the mission I have  
>been expecting, this is the mission that I have cast my arm away for. This mission…<p>

I stop at the mahogany door that leads to my room and briskly say:

"Get me what is needed, I need to leave immediately."

I enter the dimly lit room and sit by the wind. I glance outside and watch the solid gold garden. Gold  
>butterflies fitter and flutter, pollinating the gilt lilies.<p>

Reality Marble: The Gilded Garden of Gold.

A reality marble is something that rewrites the nature around it for one specific purpose. This is an  
>inherent reality marble that inhabits this land, so we will never understand the purpose. However the<br>very reason we fought so hard for the mountain base of Alamut is that the hashish that grows here is  
>special, it cuts off the senses and forces prana through the magic circuits and just keeps on forcing. This<br>is the reason why we were able to survive throughout the ages of darkness. It is for this plant the first  
>Hassan sacrificed hundreds of lives to capture this fortress. You could say that is the true treasure of the<br>fortress.

Carefully I open the papyrus letter fearing, yet acknowledging, the contents…

-and they were confirmed.

Hassan-i-Mut, the name screamed at me. It screams so much, hate, fear, forgotten everything the name  
>itself seemed to be a curse, the thin spidery lies condemning me to a hell beyond return. I glance at the<br>location and estimate it about ten days away on a mount. I change my attire and…

Cut it off Cut it off

I look at my new right arm sewn to my shoulder. It pulsates and is filled with hate. The simplest of curses,  
>yet the purest of magic.<p>

Cut if off it will kill me

I quickly wrap the pitch black bandages around my body. The assassin's uniform, a light conceptual  
>weapon, stems the flow of this endangering ether clump. I take the skull white mask off my bed and<br>quietly place it into place.

-A lost identity chasing eternity.

That is what becoming Hassan-i-Sabbah means.

The sound of the door being knocked penetrated the silence in the room and I turn my attention to  
>the future.<p>

* * *

><p>On the first night the winds howl and my consciousness dims. I lay underneath the date tree amid the<br>frozen sands of time and the skull mask gently hangs from my brow creating a sense of assimilation with  
>the world. A quiet rumble and my horse neighs wildly from the glow from torches of six riders possibly<br>raiders. Upon seeing my pure bred these riders were assured that I was a lost nobleman with riches or  
>access to riches. Through my skull mask I am able to discern that these men are scum, why else would<br>they need to attack a lone man?

The horse was seen and found, so was the saddlebag however no man who owned such a fine beast was  
>glanced upon. All six riders agree that the man had left the horse to go search… Idiots why would I leave<br>the saddlebag then? Yes, I was right here with my presence concealment. On top of this date tree I look  
>at the puny, greedy men underneath. I take out six of my Darks, one for each person, and let them fly<br>one by one. Dark, these daggers are called such because when thrown they can only be seen as darkness.  
>The moment one is hit by this darkness… the darkness overwhelms him and he falls into eternal darkness.<p>

One, two, three, four, five...oh

A sixth dark will not be needed as it seems the fifth killed two of them. The fifth went through one's eye  
>and penetrated another's horse's heart. The horse buckled and death was ensured for the rider as well.<br>Holding the unused dark in one hand, I ride through the night. On the first twilight I offered six as  
>sacrifices.<p>

* * *

><p>Darks are blocked at an unholy speed while rational thought gone out the door; yet I struggled, yet I struggle.<br>Enveloped in darkness, that is all I can do and all I will do. Struggle and struggle. The darkness envelopes  
>me, and my robe flaps wildly at my movement. A flash and his fist draws close. Feint, Feint, Feint. Arrgh,<br>I am a killer not a fighter. I roam the streets at night and kill in one shot I do not fight and die like a dog.  
>However for the first time I want to do so. Some worthless infidel virtue honor… I wanted to honor him<br>with this fight. This final fight before one of use will ascend into history without an identity. But a darkness  
>swamps my vision and slowly I am enveloped<p>

and… I… am… finally…absorbed…by…the…scary…scary…darkness…

* * *

><p>The golden sunset flashes through the marketplace. A void is not becoming in this bustling plaza. Rugs<br>and spices were beginning to be taken down. Rotten fruit and vegetables litter the ground creating  
>that stench which is associated with human habitat. I was enwrapped in the pitch black cloak I had<br>bought. Its hood hid everything except my skull mask that resembled a ghostly moon. Nonchalantly I  
>continue my promenade with the growing darkness. I continue my walk through the twilight streets<br>tumbling and swinging around until I was left on a rooftop gazing at couple quarreling. Watching those  
>two fighting in such a way…<p>

* * *

><p>The elders all clapped at his nomination. I, the one that did not achieve the name Hassan clapped gently.<br>He was my brother after all. That man had inherited the name Hassan on this day and he would earn the rest  
>of the title when the current Hassan-i-Sabbah died. Leaving the room, we walked through the golden<br>garden smelling the faint scent of hashish. The aroma made me feel lightheaded and slightly euphoric.  
>Slowly I sunk into a quiet, warm oblivion amidst a golden lawn.<p>

* * *

><p>Cut it off Cut it off, I really need to cut it off.<p>

The couple laid with throats ripped out. Vital red droplets landed, soaking the rooftops with red rain.  
>The true faces, masked with expressions of complete horror, were unrecognizable. I walk away with the<br>male body feeling absolutely nothing. I throw the body I carry into a well next to where my horse is tied  
>up and ride away under a demonic smiling moon. On the second twilight it seems I have separated<br>the two that were close.

* * *

><p>With the information from the bird familiars we know this land so well that I can even navigate this<br>windy, dry, void of life desert. The sheer amount of sand evokes a nostalgic sense of home. Home is  
>where the heart is… so it seems I crush homes as well. The wind starts to howl and I pull my cloak closer.<br>The night is nigh and I wonder, I wonder, what sort of monster will the night bring tonight?

* * *

><p>Drops of blood outline the cold, hard floor. Every drop creates at splash and disappears as if it is a<br>phantom. The man with the bloodied sword however was not a phantom. Both men's bloodied robes  
>meant something…<p>

-one was killed

-one had killed

But who killed who?

The dead man's body was gruffly grabbed and thrown at me. It made a sickening splat as it landed on  
>my body. The course just dead was just so cold. So cold, death was so cold, cold, cold, no I don't want to<br>die, I don't want to end up this cold…

* * *

><p>Monsters lay at my feet. Darks coated in golden resin protrude out of the neck. The wind surrounding their<br>bodies starts to dissipate and soon their bodies become one with the sand. Human shaped monsters, masters  
>of the desert and of the winds. Djinn. Monstrous beasts nearing the level of elementals; however, because they<br>are not elementals…

-I can do this.

I rip out the vanishing heart and take a bite.

I am surrounded, surrounded by white, a wind blows… no it is too primal to be called a wind. Steel, wind,  
>a steel of wind, a wind of steel. I try to move forward but it's impossible I cannot even move my hand let<br>alone my feet and then my body. The pressure is crushing, crushing and the effect of eating a heart kicks  
>in.<p>

Cut it off Cut it off.

Going through my mind cut it off until my white skull mask shatters along with my left eyeball. I am  
>pulverized by the wind, my consciousness is fading and I rue the reason why I ate that stupid djinn heart.<br>I let myself fall into deeper, darker territories. My right eyeball is crushed, my legs become malformed,  
>and my left arm hand hanged uselessly.<p>

Cut it off Cut it off

Beats through the wind of steel.

Cut if off Cut it off

I can't move…

-I'll just make you move.

My right arm grabs the steel wind by is sliced into pieces. My arm reforms itself again and again and again and  
>again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again until I<br>cannot see, feel, touch, smell or taste I...

With a groggy mind I wake buried in the sand, using my left arm I shake and shift my body out of this  
>toasty trap. During the process my mask sank into the sand like the moon dropping from the sky. Poetic<br>isn't it? I thought so as well until I touched my now bare face… flat and featureless like a skull. Human  
>beings were never supposed to know a phantasmal species as intimately as I had. I absently run prana<br>through my magic circuits. It seems the number of magic circuits in my possession has doubled or even  
>tripled. Philosophically, it is a fair trade. On the third twilight I praise Shaytan.<p>

* * *

><p>My sight is filled with vivid gold as I stand up in a paradisiacal garden of gold. The light rays above seem<br>like seraphs ready to crown me. The grass licks my skin and flames char my skin. That instantly gives me  
>a reaction. First I am shocked that the garden is not on fire, but it is a reality marble and gold does not<br>catch on fire; however, Alamut does. I run, I take off, my robe flaps as I look for my "brother". I  
>decend the stairs into a stone hall and hear a scream. I turn and open a door in horror to…<p>

* * *

><p>I wonder what my "brother" will think of me when I see him. Absorbing that djinn, losing that right arm...<br>Yes, I have changed so much since that day. I cover my lips with sense-depriving hashish to calm my  
>raging emotion, and go into a stupor in this sandstorm. Fine, I'm fine, yesterday if I had walked into I<br>would be dead but today, today, I am different. I drift and drift and drift airy as a fairy with the world  
>spinning and the sky seemingly laughing at me.<p>

Cut it off Cut it off. I have to cut it off.

But, I can't. Because last time without this arm…

* * *

><p>A knife comes down and I retreat back to throw a dark to test this strength of that knife. The dark and<br>the knife shatter in one passing. I know he has no more weapons so I aim at the vital points. Neck, heart,  
>lungs, everything I aimed was aimed to kill. To kill efficiently, effectively, effortlessly, but this was the<br>man who should have become the Hassan-i-Sabbah and all I was just an assassin, an assassin that  
>became what he would not become without death. So I am weak weak weak weak weak weak weak. I<br>am weaker than he who fought so hard for this title and that is why my right arm is ripped off in an  
>instant and I fade into the darkness and darkness fades into me. My untorn arm reaches towards him,<br>reaching but never touching. Worthless or empty I cannot decide which emotion to feel.

* * *

><p>I slump down in the desert fields, barren and devoid of life. A sharp feeling goes through my dead body<br>and my head dully aches. Withdrawal from the hashish. Usually this kind of hashish does not have  
>withdrawal symptoms, so… A dark gouges the head of a body next to me. I do not know who it is; after<br>all with a dagger in the forehead blood has painted the face with a colour of death. I do not know who it  
>is but on the fourth twilight I gouged the head and killed.<p>

* * *

><p>This kind of hashish was no meant to give withdrawal symptoms, so why do I experience a dull headache<br>when I now take it? To add death to injury I had killed an innocent man. I feel guilty, I would be inhuman  
>if I did not, but I am not shocked by my actions, I am an assassin, killing is my trade, death is<br>commonplace. Death in the name of Allah. Allah guides my hand; therefore… therefore if I kill I am  
>guided by his hand, so whoever I kill is a sinner. Baselessly reassuring myself like that I notice I am no<br>longer in possession of a horse and I let out a groan. This day was getting worse and worse.

* * *

><p>I had refused because there was no point in accepting.<p>

I had refused because I wished to be holy.

I had accepted because it was my duty.

I was brought back to a fortress full of whispers and gossip of:

"Hassan-i-Sabbah failed his first mission," they whispered.

"He is only a replacement, a second-rate that could never become first," they gossiped.

Yes, everyone, under their darkened faces was laughing at my failure.

He was laughing at me.

Cut if off.

She was laughing at me.

Cut if off.

Her baby was laughing at me.

Cut it off.

The children were laughing shrilly at me.

Cut if off.

The dark doors were laughing at me.

Cut it off.

The brilliant, radiant tapestries in this luxurious meeting chamber were laughing at me.

Cut it off.

The rich rugs were laughing at me

Cut it off.

The dark mahogany table was laughing at me.

Cut if off.

The vast cathedral-like domes and glittering, glistening stained-glass windows were laughing at me.

Cut it off.

Even the elders who elected me were laughing at me through their skull white masks.

Cut it off Cut it off.

Those moonlit faces that didn't exist, the crony old fossils, their reign was over, at least it was due to be over.

The council of elders, the judges of judges.

They were the one who judged him worthy.

They will be ones who will judge me unworthy.

The white death stands his mask resembles the death masks of the rulers of the country of pyramids.

He makes a proclamation.

Cut it off Cut it off

I really need to,

I have need to,

I just want to,

Cut it off Cut it off

* * *

><p>-and that is that moment I regain the consciousness I thought I had. My fingers gingerly circle around a<br>dark, the dark is plunged deed pinto the chest of some poor man. Instantly, I recoil and feel repulse, not  
>at the fact I killed the man –he was sinner- but rather because I had plunged the dark into the body.<br>Darks are meant to be thrown; no, not meant, it is their purpose to be thrown. Denying the weapon of  
>its purpose, that is a sin, and that sin will lead to repercussions. Pulling myself up I continue to cross the<br>sea of sand with the set sun sundering my side. On the fifth twilight I gouged the chest and killed.

* * *

><p>I wander the sands like a man deserted by his god. Was this how Adam and Eve felt cast out of Eden?<br>Cast out of Paradise into…this. Howling winds and howling jackals. I laugh, I laugh hideously and insanely.  
>Human? I still regard myself as human? Surely I jest. I am no longer human why would I even try to<br>emphasize with Adam, ever since the day I bore this arm, I have become…

W-What am I…

W-Who am I?

* * *

><p>I run after him. It is all I can do.<p>

Run.

Run.

Run.

He's faster than me, stronger than me, and de-

he has just killed a man; there is nothing saying he will not kill me.

But, aren't we brothers?

We both pass the barrier surrounding this impregnable fortress of dogs. He runs further and further,  
>down cliff. I chase after him because all these thoughts of death and danger are secondary. I need to<br>question it, I need to question him, his motives, his why, did he abandon us? He was happy right here  
>with the brotherhood and me. Fun things, happy things, all of that. Sure we killed, sure we sinned, but,<br>but… we had each other right?

We reach an oasis and he turns to me, his eyes ablaze, aflame, and certain of his victory. I grow wary at  
>the sight of his already triumphant eyes. I do not understand, what victory, what win? Does he intend to<br>fight? I-I don't want to. I'll happy kill anyone other than you. I do not understand and that uncertainty  
>turns to fear, fear is helplessness, helplessness back into fear, fear into an endless cycle of despair I<br>cannot state in words. He licks his lips; the eyes of a predator. My fear turns into action and he quickly  
>and calmly blocks. My action fades into inaction and I am quickly shut down. A fist to my gut sends my<br>eyes a-fluttering. Flapping in the wind, a robe. Turning his mocking back on me and walking away, him.  
>Worthless and useless with glassy eyes looking towards the oceanous sky, me. Slowly I am enveloped in<br>the darkness-

* * *

><p>-and my left hand is sticky with the blood of another. My left hand is red with the clotting blood of a<br>human, again,again.

Cut it off Cut it off

I want to cut it off.

I want to cut it off so my hand does not become redder than it already is.

Ahhh cut it off

But I cannot, not yet anyway. Not until I…

I shake off those misfortunous thoughts away. I turn and leave the rotting body body in the wake of my  
>swishing, fluttering cloak. It seems the coming sandstorm will bury this unknown body. That will destroy<br>the evidence, but it will not deny the fact that on the sixth twilight I gouged the stomach and killed and  
>now; now, my hand is covered in blood and bile.<p>

* * *

><p>The sun beats down baking the dunes into a crisp brown crust. The desert flowers whimper voicing their<br>complaints to no one in particular. The breeze roars at its potential to become an all-encompassing gale.  
>However it does not affect me, not anymore, the reason is lost to me. My inhuman magical circuits<br>pump prana into my system allowing my movements to resemble a sandworm leaping over dunes and  
>diving under dunes. I follow the most deserted pathway hoping that I would not encounter anyone, no<br>not just anyone I hoped no to encounter anything, not people, not animals, not even plants. Everything  
>is at risk, risk just because one holds possession of a heart, heart…<p>

* * *

><p>"Heart, do you have enough heart? Do you have enough love to commit the greatest sin in this<br>brotherhood? Do you have enough heart to commit fratricide?"

Cut it off Cut it off

I look at my non-existent right arm…cut it off?

Who was it that said that?

Who was it that probed that into my brain?

Who was the one inhabiting my heart urging me to cut off something that I cannot cut?

Cut it off Cut it off?

"Your reply?" The elders all looked at me with eyes boring into my soul.

Could they heart see it could they see heart what inhabited my heart. Nothing in my heart, my heart is  
>pure; my right arm might be defiled heart though.<p>

"Are you?" they question me; an interrogation of my heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart.  
>Dazed and confused, I heart, I heart everything, I heart everything so much it that I just want to cut it off.<br>The steady need for heart thumps and bumps in a rhythm. There is no hashish in my system. I am clean,  
>yet my soul is defiled. The elder stops babbling and after seeing my condition asks a final question.<p>

"Will you change your name?" he asks filled with hope and dread.

"To what?" I cut him off.

"heart-heart-heart," all I can hear is the pounding of a heart. But changing my name? Taint no luck in  
>this place.<p>

* * *

><p>I heart everything. A heart is squashed. His heart is squashed. His heart had no luck in being<br>here. His heart is quickly devoured and relished by me. The heart, full of knowledge and emotion  
>soothes my ether filled body. His heart was crushed but that was not the fatal wound. His heart is cut it<br>off. I couldn't stand it so I gouged his knee. His heart had no luck being in a deserted part of the desert.  
>His heart could have flourished elsewhere but not at that part of the desert. I heart him. On the seventh<br>twilight I gouged the knee and killed.

* * *

><p>Delusional, insane, I don't was the become ThOsE, yet this ether corrupts my body. It rejects me because<br>I am human. It has only been four twilights since I gained these additional magical circuits, yet I am  
>already losing basic human drives. I am too fearful to go near towns cut it off and now I simply wear a<br>mask to make people believe I have face. This type of life… I question the worth and because I question  
>the worth I loathe myself. I look at my right arm flat as a board. I said clay, it resembled clay. Now it<br>resembles hellfire, molten mud, brimstone. So much that I wish to cut it off. Twilight approaches and  
>the world shrinks away from the sky.<p>

* * *

><p>To the end of the earth. Through time and space itself. I chase. There isn't any luck in my new name so I<br>chase. I chase the one who is supposed to bear this name. The person carrying this name dies so the  
>name survives. Is it that he merely didn't want that? Is that all? I jumped back and back, on that day<br>three weeks ago he was not sad he was not happy he was not angry he was… why can't I remember  
>what sort of face he made? That ends tonight, one of use will fall. Fratricide will be committed tonight. I<br>place a ball of hashish into my mouth and…

A ghost town – the moon bakes the mud houses – everything – him on a rooftop oh brother. Weapon  
>come down – weapon goes up – gushes no pain no pain – hideous laughing at blood – don't remember<br>don't remember tomorrow I will not remember – friends more family were – knife on you – under me  
>you – I love so – kill me not you – brother! Pain, Pain, Pain I should be feeling pain but – hit he hits –<br>blood erd moon – hideous laughing, just hideous – not from him – Cut, Cut – fighting back – fighting  
>forward – fighting up – fighting down – the whole world is cumulating – spiral – brother – kill – mission –<br>hassan – you and me – i – what I have done – sabbah – what have you done – weren't we – you cut it off  
>– WHY? Darkness is propelled into my eyes, no pain, no pain there is no pain it's gone it's leaving it's<br>nothing no anymore lucid from shock I see my brother his arm with red. Ahh the moon is crying-

* * *

><p>This is the eight night of my journey there will be two more nights like this. This is the eight night of my<br>journey of my journey and I am already non-human. This is the eight night of my journey and I have just  
>gouged the leg. I look up at the moon wondering if it is the same as that night… yes, the moon is still<br>crying but for whom? Yes, who is the moon crying for this time?

Close, I am close, I can see the deserted town in the background. Tomorrow night I will arrive at the  
>capital and will complete my mission. But first… I must conquer the waves of mercenaries appearing<br>right in front of me. I take all the darks that exist on my body. Cut it off.

* * *

><p>In this second [ ] the first thought that comes to mind is-<p>

Cut it off

A foreign substance seems to enter my body.

Cut it off

I really, really need to cut it off, however in this [ ] I do not have the instruments to do so. In this [ ] I do  
>not have the ability to move. In this [ ] I do not having anything. All I can do is… wait. After all I was the<br>one that agreed to this surgery. For the sake of purifying my heart and I soul I sacrifice my right arm.  
>Because I was weak I let Shaytan into my heart… Because I was weak I lost to the person that matters<br>the most to me… Because I was weak… this is the outcome of my life. Clay, it seems like it will be a  
>conduct for the devil in my soul. Three weeks it has been since that day three weeks since the day it was<br>destroyed by my older brother. I need this Cut it off but I need this. I wouldn't be taking this surgery unless  
>I actually needed it. It hurt it's a pain that surpasses physical, psychological, pathological. In this [ ]<br>where I am not supposed to wake from, yet I awake. I turn and look to my right; an arm like a spear sewn  
>onto my shoulder, my arm is a wing. I am an one winged angel. Even so the first thought that passed<br>through my mind was cut it off, closely followed by a hunger for heart.

* * *

><p>I bind myself tightly with my cloak. My right arm screams for release but I did not and do not unbind it<br>because of the danger; the simplest of curses, yet one of the purest of magecrafts, It seems that on the  
>ninth twilight none have been left alive. With the skeleton of a town in sight I walk, I walk quietly; I walk<br>silently on the ever-shifting sands where blossoming red roses now stain the grains in a sickening silhouette.

I walk

I walk

I… want cut it off.

* * *

><p>Every step I take reverberates the same message.<p>

Cut it off

So silent, everything is so silent…So silent that not a grain of sand cannot be heard moving from its place.  
>So silent that the rotting houses do not creak and crack. So silent, this is a world that is so silent. So why,<br>why am I hearing such a loud rumble, why is the same message repeating over and over in my mind? I  
>lazily slump over and over until I reach the town center, and there bathed in moonbeams for a moon<br>full… Hassan al Mut. He wears a simple robe and now a saif tucked under a plain cloth scabbard. No  
>mask adorns his face now. His eagle-like features and dull eyes regard me lazily and I am left to<br>wonder… what if that was me instead?

A charge, a straight charge in my direction and I notice he is lucid, quite lucid. He seems to have given up  
>the pleasures of hashish. Truly, he is no longer part of the brotherhood. Even so I still regard him as my<br>brother… I place a tiny ball of hashish into my mouth and accelerate.

Our fists meet in –

I regain consciousness on the rooftop of a building; on the opposing rooftop is my brother. I am panting,  
>why am I panting? Only a second ago my fist met his. Now how are we on opposing rooftops? Confused,<br>so confused, so confused that I want to cut it off. No, I cannot, that is the last thing I can do. If I cut it off  
>there will no longer be any way to beat him.<p>

"What have you done to yourself?" he breaks the silence.

My reply is the dark that I did not need to use of the first twilight. It sails smoothly in the air and blown  
>away by a gust of wind.<p>

His saif is unsheathed and the world begins to move once again. Wild winds course from the point of  
>release and sand rises in pillars. The magical energy is gigantic, somewhat close to my own. Moreover<br>that was my last dark; the rest had been expended on the mercenaries bought for protection. Nothing I  
>have nothing.<p>

Using the wind as a foothold he leaps over the buildings and executes a perfect arc so dazzling under the  
>moonlight that I feel unworthy of its presence. A ruthless, merciless silver blade with no ornamentation,<br>no ornaments are needed because the blade itself is so beautiful. Quickly I move back and my mask falls  
>off at the wind that follows the blade.<p>

"What have you become?"his horrified voice tells it all.

"What have you obtained?"my fearful voice says it all.

I rush prana through my magic circuits in haste and retreat to an area out of his range. Conceptual  
>weapon, that has to be a conceptual weapon. The way it sliced at me; it must be a sword of revenge, it<br>must be a sword of revenge. Revenge for what?

His eagle eyes flick to my position, knowing what I am questioning.

"Saif al Alaya: The Wind that Passes Judgement."

Even his sword hates me. Fate must be laughing at me. I devoured those djinn to gain a chance at  
>destroying him. I gave up my humanity to be able to hurt him. I became a beast of Gaia and an enemy of<br>humanity just to fight him. Yet now he trumps that? I laugh that it all I can do I madly laugh. The sound  
>that comes from my mouth is inhuman, everything about me is inhuman. I laugh, I rave, I madly laugh,<br>and I madly rave to the moon. Madness fills me and I will never leave its clutches again. Lunatic that is  
>what I am.<p>

Cut it off

I turn my head and regard him with my eyes ablaze, aflame, certain of my death, and…I…charge.

A simple arc is made, a simple incision into the air and with a quiet voice.

"Sorry…brother, you need to die."

The sacred name is cast and the vortex of a tornado drives at me.

I grin hideously while running, I laugh, laugh that fate must also be laughing with me. Wind? Wind to  
>crush the unholy? That will never hold against me, because at the moment I touch the wind I realize, I<br>realize I will win. Those eyes moments ago ablaze with death and now ablaze in triumph. Djinn, the  
>dregs, divine protection of wind. Magic circuits were not the only gift I was presented, resistance,<br>resistance to any sort of wind, the true gift for struggling through that steel wind. That steel wind makes  
>this gale seem as a breeze and I am able to surpass and that and<p>

cut it off

Why? Why am I the one on the ground? I look at his face, he looks at my non-existent face.

Why is there so much sadness in his eyes once ablaze with triumph?

Why are there tears streaming from my non-existent eyes?

Cut it off

I can't stand it.

I can't win.

So why?

Why can't I let go of the hope that I will win?

Why can't I just abandon all my hope and despair?

I ( ) to die.

My dark comes down coated in hashish resin. He must have picked it up or let the wind pick it up for him.  
>Then my own weapon comes and touches the human blood that still flows inside my inhuman body. My<br>magic circuits overload, and for a third time I am enveloped in darkness.

* * *

><p>If this is my death I should accept it.<p>

If this is my death I should embrace it.

However-

I can't do that.

Blocks fall into place.

Blocks? What blocks, this is [ ].

I am splashed into a mud-like substance and my world turns.

This is the only thing I have left, my own perception of reality.

That turns.

And I land engulfed in someone else's reality.

Red fills this [ ].

That doesn't make sense because red shouldn't exist here.

"Do you want it?"

That doesn't make sense voice shouldn't exist here.

Prana swirls up, and a great pressure descends.

That doesn't make sense. Prana shouldn't exist here.

That doesn't make sense. Pressure shouldn't exist here.

So why do they exist?

"I am Shaytan a being made of the hopes and dreams of humanity, one of what you call gods."

Shaytan, Satan, a rebellious angel that defied god.

It "regards" "me".

"I am not evil, I am a mere product of human hopes and dreams."

All demons tempt as such.

"You understand that this is death, if you let this chance go, your soul will enter the cycle of reincarnation."

I nod accepting my fate. I accepted the darkness like how I accepted this cursed name.

"Are there any regrets left? Things that you should or could have done?"

R-E-G-R-E-T-S

That one world hits me. It is only one word but it weighs the world to me. Regrets, things I could say or  
>do. Of course I have them, of course, but I am dead I should accept this fate. I ran through life and… Did I?<br>Did I run through life the way I wanted to? Did I do my best? Can I be proud of myself right now, right  
>now after being offered another chance?<p>

A flash I can no longer remember, and I strengthen my resolve to succumb, one more time, just one  
>more time. Next time it will be the end so… for now I want, I need, I have to tell my brother ( ) .<p>

I raise my non-existent left arm and accept. I will accept everything to say everything.

No regrets.

This time for sure.

There will be no regrets.

* * *

><p>It hurts…<p>

Cut it off.

It really hurts…

Cut it off.

Even if hashish is in my system it hurts.

My magic circuits have fried themselves and are on the brink of breaking down.

Cut it off.

This arm of Shaytan hurts, it's scary, it scares me. I want to cut it off…

So why don't you?

Yes… Why not?

I believed, I believed that one day there would be a use for it. That is why I kept it, that is why I endured  
>it all. So if I do not use it all…<p>

-there was no point in making that contract.

No regrets. I hold that creed deep to my dead heart.

There is no way I will miss so

-I flood my frazzled magic circuits with prana.

Snap.

Pain

Snap.

As

Snap.

One

Snap.

After

Snap.

Another

Snap.

Breaks.

Snap.

My grotesque right arm snaps through the bandages and through the stiches to hold it into place. This is  
>the premiere.<p>

A gigantic wing.

An arm that shoots like a spear.

His face has no expression. His face is too shocked to carry a expression.

I roar it.

I roar the true name.

I roar the true name of the Noble Phantasm all Hassan-i-Sabbah obtain at the cost of their humanity.

"- ZABANIYA!-"

My cursed right arm goes for the heart and with the extra touch I exchanged the ether heart in my hands with his real heart.

Zabaniya: Delusional Heartbeat.

The simplest of curses yet the purest of magecraft.

My face blooms in a smile. This will be the last time either of us is alive. So I give him the greatest smile I  
>can muster and say the two words that I have always held in my heart from the day we met. Even<br>without tears I wish to cry, but I hold on and bite the heart so my brother will always exist within me.  
>Blood covers my face and my vision is turned red.<p>

* * *

><p>What memory shall it show me? What memory shall it pick? This fickle, fickle heart of hearts holds what<br>dear? The same oasis where I was beaten down, a boy with eagle features sits atop a date tree watching.  
>A sobbing boy cries his nose a-running. The eagle featured boy finds no interest after all to him is a<br>natural sight. The orphans the brotherhood takes in have to beaten and modified to become servants  
>for Allah. But the eagle featured boy also knows how painful it is, after all, he is also a part of the<br>brotherhood. Usually after a few weeks the boys harden up becoming use to the routine. Not this boy,  
>definitely not this boy. The eagle featured boy already knows, this is a boy that will never survive the<br>intense training. The eagle featured boy doesn't care, his seen so much death that he doesn't care  
>anymore. But… one that day the eagle featured boy declared he wanted to save everyone. It is a simple<br>dream that every child experiences, but to this eagle featured boy who had seen so much death it was a  
>promise to the world, and the world took him on that promise making him a protector of humanity. This<br>was the crushing burden the young eagle featured boy had thrust upon him yet he had to help this sobbing  
>boy. He jumps from the date tree using the numerous magic circuits at his feet as a cushion and silently sat<br>next to the sobbing boy.

"You know…" The eagle featured boy starts.

"I HATE EVERYONE, EVERYONE." The sobbing boy screams to no one in particular.

"Does that mean you hate me?" The eagle featured boy asks further.

"EVERYONE EVEN YOU!" The sobbing boy continues that tantrum.

"How can you hate me when you don't know anything about me?" The eagle featured boy replies  
>calmly.<p>

The sobbing boy stopped to try comprehend his own hate. What did he hate? Why did he hate?

"Would you hate me if I were you older brother?" The eagle featured boy asks offhandedly.

"I don't know, but Ahmed from across the street did." The no longer sobbing boy grows perplexed.

"Did Ahmed hate his brother?" The eagle featured boy presses further.

"No..No he said he liked his older brother!" exclaims the boy.

"So, if I'm your older brother you can't hate me." The eagle feature boy concludes.

But the boy was stubborn.

"But, you aren't my brother." He insists.

"How do you know? I could be your long lost brother."

The idea appealed to this boy.

He looked at the eagle featured boy and asks "What do you want to do?"

An abrupt question puts the eagle featured boy in a tight spot, he replies "What do you want to do?"

"I want to go home! Back to Mumma, I promise even to eat the prunes." He starts bawling again.

"Well, you can't; however if you become Hassan-i-Sabbah, you will able to invite all those people here.  
>You won't even have to eat prunes!"<p>

The boy looks hopeful "Really?"

"Would your brother lie to you?"

"I-I'm going to do it. I'm going to become the Hassan-i-Sabbah."

The eagle featured boy laughs and then the once sobbing boy laughs as well. The clear blue pool  
>sparkles golden from the setting sun as if blessing the future of these boys. I slight myself. It truly seems<br>that on the tenth twilight I have reached the capital where the gold dwells, and thus ends my  
>journey.<p>

* * *

><p>Suddenly I awake. All sixty of my magic circuits have snapped strained as over-stretched yarn. And now I…<p>

"You IDIOT!"

I try to scream but my mouth is filled with heart. I didn't need it, I didn't need that dream, that dream  
>was something that was worthless to me. I only could live it if you were beside me. Brother, why did you<br>do that? Did you really this that would make me happy? Selfish, just selfish you wanted to save me, but  
>you didn't; you ended up leaving me, abandoning me. I know, I now know you had to kill the previous<br>Hassan-i-Sabbah because of a contradiction in the world. But… why…did…you…leave…me?

I fall. I fall back into the [ ]. I am no longer attached to Akasha, my magic circuits have all given way. I fall  
>and I decide to fall for all eternity. We had each other, that was enough. That was my dream. I did not<br>dream to obtain this arm. I sink and am engulfed by darkness yet at the same time filled with despair, I  
>am filled with darkness. Seeking a salvation, my mind turns to the brilliant smile I saw on his face when I<br>said…

**thank you.**


	8. into Rider: stifling Salvation

**into Rider: Stifling Salvation**

"'_Are you on Sakura's side Shirou?_

_No matter what may happen in the future?'"_

_-Rider, Fate/stay night_

The chains entwine my wrists softly kissing and caressing. My pale, pure white dress is ragged and in  
>tatters. My slender legs are purpled; bloomed and then flowered on the harsh, cold stone floor and the<br>prison I was contained. Long strands of purple hair hang, helplessly, hopelessly, wisps flutter and flit  
>over my forehead around due to a soft breeze along with accusing eyes that bore into my back and<br>therefore my mystic eyes are lowered. Without warning a wooden hammer rings through the stone  
>hard cell. It is a sound as cold as the room. In the democracy of the gods this is the room that decides<br>fate. For that reason, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos linger in a corner as witnesses to the decisions.  
>Next to the Moirae exists the jury, the eleven masked Olympians and an unmasked Zeus as the judge of my<br>fate. My fate seems to be in less than faithful hands. Accomplices to my crime stand behind me, my  
>sisters…to save them I would do anything… anything. This time with warning the wood hammer of<br>the gods rings out like thunder.

"Guilty," The one word that determines my fate, "Guilty of all charges."

The decision rings out and I ask myself: guilty of what? Guilty of trying to protect my sisters? Who are  
>you? You may be the king of gods; however, what are you deciding…<p>

The moment your naïve world view is broken and you realize what a loaded thing justice is, is the  
>moment your world becomes a flood of grey, a grey that turns an impossibly grey court room into a grey<br>greyer than grey, a grey so grey that even rush of light and then a gale of ice, the very quintessence of  
>nature, becomes the greyest of sights so when I look around and recognize a desolate island devoid of<br>life other than my sisters and me nothing has changed, even when a voice thunders:

"For your crimes, you are all hereby exiled to this shapeless isle and Medusa for your additional crime I  
>hereby bind your eyes with this seal of darkness."<p>

A blindfold is clasped onto my eyes that from now instead of grey

-I can only see taboo fantasies of blood.

A crude smile twinkles on my mouth and for the first time in my life…

-I so deeply crave blood.

* * *

><p>Deep inside my vicious taboo fantasies… I dream of it. Caves of it, caverns of it, blood everywhere even<br>blotting out the golden horizon in as if a vermillion phantasm. I simply just want blood; blood to bloat  
>my stomach, blood. Blood enough and for that reason I enter to the light. The bright light pierces my<br>dark accustomed eyes. No, I am wrong, after all my eyes are sealed with this

-Breaker Gorgon: The Self Sealing Temple of Darkness

I was so accustomed with a darkness darker than darkness that even darkness was too bright for my  
>eyes. Pitiful, I who once loved and was loved by the light can no longer tell its difference from darkness. I<br>cannot see anything. I simply cannot see anything because to my eyes the world is so bright, but that's  
>wrong as well, I am wrong. The reality is that I cannot see anything because a conceptual weapon is<br>attached to my eyes. I do not know which to accept, my fantasy or reality's phantasm, neither seem real  
>so to find reality I slowly I shuffle onward. Not knowing my position, I trip over a rock and fall flat on my<br>face. Tears sting my eyes; tears from the simple humiliation of being unable to walk. Goddess, goddess  
>rings through my ears… now what am I? I have become a being unable to even walk, I have become<br>unable to see, and I have become unable to even feel happiness. In the beginning, at the end of that trial  
>I accepted it, I accepted the punishment, it wouldn't be bad I naively thought, I did it for the right<br>reasons, I believed. Now where are those thoughts? Now where are those beliefs? Where have they  
>gone? Regret, grips my heart and I wish, hope, pray I had said something, said anything. I-I don't want<br>this… I am a being made of the desire and hopes of humanity. I laugh cynically. Is this what beings made  
>of the desires and hopes of humanity do to other beings made of hopes and dreams of humanity? We<br>stample and trample over each other like it is nothing. That phantasm is just so cruel. After all, I-I did  
>nothing wrong. My blindfolded face that is hot and wet with angry and indignant tears lowers itself onto<br>this dust; dust as light and empty of substance as my heart.

"Heeeey… Is that Medusa, sister?" A childish voice penetrates my despair.

"Why is the once revered goddess Medusa lying on the ground as if a commoner?" another childish voice piques.

"G-Goddess…then why is she here?" asks a third voice, one I have never heard before, a quiet and timid voice.

"Well m'dear she's no longer a goddess-"Stheno started adding a touch of foreshadowing in her voice

"–she's a mortal much like you. Her punishment though-"Euryale's exasperated voice sounded so  
>sarcastic.<p>

"-now she craves human blood." Stheno concluded.

"H-Human blood?" The timid voice grew fearful.

"Especially young maiden princess'…" Euryale's teasing continued.

"B-But I'm human… and also a young maiden princess…" the human, maiden princess stammered  
>awkwardly and seemed to cringe.<p>

"Oh? You are now aren't you, be careful then." Stheno was ruthless.

I could stand it no longer.

"Quiet!" I commanded "Girl, I will not eat you, I swear on the Styx that all immortals swear on."

"To bad-"Stheno started.

"-Medusa isn't an immortal anymore."

My cheeks blushed at the indignation and embarrassment and the timid voice started to chuckle Stheno  
>and Euryale made noise of puzzlement.<p>

"Ne~ so you are like me Medusa. I am a former princess."

The word former meant nothing to me anymore, everyone who winded up in this shapeless isle was a "former" something.

Former soldiers.

Former cobblers.

Former wives.

Former priestess.

Even…

Former goddess.

Yet, never has a princess been former.

A slightly salty sea smell sinks into my nose and unexpectedly my stomach growls and we all laugh.

* * *

><p>The fire crackled and hissed; its warmth spread across wafting towards my nose the smell of freshly<br>cooked fish. The girl ate ravenously, the sounds she made implied she was either not a princess or she  
>had not eaten for days. The girl's name was Andromeda. Her mother had praised her daughter<br>–Andromeda's sister- more beautiful than all the gods. Andromeda's sister was killed Andromeda was left  
>on boat set adrift on the sea to die. A little girl about the age ten, imagine that scene, a little girl not yet<br>a bud sitting all alone on Oceanus waiting, just waiting for the end… A storm was cast by Poseidon to kill  
>her and the raft, so Andromeda's intended eternal grave capsized and she drifted here. Stheno and<br>Euryale found her while fishing today, that's where the fish here came from in tow with the homesick  
>"princess." We all could emphasize after all we all missed that temple we use to play in as "children."<br>We all "ahhed" and remembered the good old day then a question pops up inside my head.

"Together- If you don't have anywhere else do go…do you want to live together with us from now on?" I  
>question afraid of an answer.<p>

Andromeda looks blankly in amazement. She had probably never had heard such a request in her life.  
>Her eyes probably are tearing full of gratitude.<p>

"You mean I can… live with you three?"

"Of course!" screams Stheno and Euryale in unison, "Of course."

When I look back those were the happiest days in my in my life as a "Gorgon," so much so they were like  
>a fantasy compared to the later days. We taught Andromeda how to hunt, we slept together, we bathed<br>together. Those were the times that illuminated my memories. The bad times, the times that hurt me…  
>In the later times when I was no longer who I was and neither could I recall who I was and so I dreamt;<br>these are the times I dream of. These times became my salvation. I eventually become accustomed to  
>the light because of that girl. Confidence came with curiosity. She wanted to show me everything and<br>eventually I had to walk out of my cave because of her bright urgings. She was simply amazed by the  
>most mundane things. Insects, trees, the sky, as a sheltered princess she had never seen any of this<br>before. In that cold castle she lived in she had been satisfied with her life now… now I think she wants to  
>satisfy herself with life, same with me. Time, a bright smile, and an urging voice started healing my heart<br>and one day I finally found the courage to leave the cave and go fishing. I announced my intent to do so  
>during dinner and sisters were so shocked they couldn't tease me. Andromeda just patted my back,<br>smiling. I felt like a mortal newly recovered from a disease. How ironic, I am a mortal now, and I had  
>recovered from a disease – a disease of the psyche. Quickly a tool is fashioned for my future exploit.<br>The chains that once bound me become something I use to bind. Twin-nail daggers, instruments of self-  
>sacrifice that Andromeda held, turn into tools that reap in a bounty.<p>

* * *

><p>The next day there were no birds so chirps could not be heard…yet I heard them.<p>

The next day there was no grass for dew to glisten on… yet I could see it glisten.

The situation and world I lived in had not changed… yet I felt as if the world had changed.

Beautiful, this disgusting sealed world became beautiful, lavish, and illuminate like Olympus itself.

Instead of the dull flat water, gushed the richest, sweetest nectar.

The dry, stale bread which tasted like sandpaper in our mouths was savored as ambrosia.

Today would be a day great than great it would be a day when I could finally –finally…

I saw this is a turning point. Even if all I see is blood, now I believed it was possible to avoid that reality.  
>So I set off with nail-dagger and chains in tow, gone fishing in high hopes with my family.<p>

-That day I failed to catch a single fish.

Hopeless, I was completely hopeless at controlling the weapon I was given. The chains twined and  
>tanged and oft or not I was left in the lurch. My face was usually in the mud to the amusement of my<br>sisters. Heh, it seemed like they had planned this all along; however, my already meager pride would not  
>disappear and let me take up a spear. My sisters teased and carried on like always. Stheno was the one<br>that caught the most in the end. Watching her could be compared to watching predator tease its prey  
>and finally devouring the helpless, helpless beast. Andromeda came a surprisingly second; she launched<br>a hemp net as if it was a silk spider web, ready to encase and entrap the prey, a gigantic spider always  
>hungry, always ready. Perhaps it was because I had no sense of sight that the fish always ended up<br>wriggling away. I would never be able gut their lithe, nimble bodies. After a specified time designated to  
>admiring the catch, arguing who caught the largest fist, and teasing me because I had no catch we<br>returned whistling brightly to our camp.

* * *

><p>It was the smell, it was the smell that caught me off guard, off guard and turned my vision into an all too<br>familiar fantasy of the crimson fountain of life. Animal, the smell was of some sort of animal, one that  
>walked on two legs, one that tore through meat with jaws, one that leeches off the earth to<br>manufacture and kill. I turned around because she had a familiar scent, yes being so close to her for so  
>long I had forgotten she had a scent like this: a mad, ravenous, rabid scent. Only now am I aware of it,<br>aware because so much of it is the air. I take a step, my arms are outstretched. I am tackled to the  
>ground by two small beings that carry my scent.<p>

"Andromeda…" The one that holds my leg starts.

"Please, don't be scared," The one chained to my arms continues.

"Medusa, our sister, is cursed by the gods she's-"

"-she's drawn to humans." The second's eyes were downcast in emotion.

"But she's actually just scared of them, scared of what she could become." The first one nodded  
>earnestly.<p>

"So please Andromeda-" The first one pleaded.

"-please Andromeda, forgive her, forgiver our sister!" The second one pleaded her eyes starting to  
>water.<p>

"It's…not…her...fault…" the ending was weak and I claw like a rabid beast wishing to quell that scent.

The girl made a whimpering sound, staring at me she was staring at me, she was scared of me, she was  
>scared of me now, scared… Footsteps turn to strides; strides turn to leaps and bounds, ahhh, running<br>the scent is running. I try to break from these immortal chains but-

-I lose strength and fall.

Monsters, she knew we were monsters from the beginning, so why didn't she run from us then? Why  
>would she run from us now? I know she had look of horror on her face. I know even if I can see nothing<br>but blood, blood, blood. Why didn't she show us that face before, only…

"Humans…" Stheno hissed at the unbelievable phantasm that became a reality.

"First time they've come in such a multitude." Commented Ethyale.

"And it will be the last, we will save Andromeda." I sat up and commanded.

"But…" Euryale was doubtful.

"You saw what she decided." Stheno proved with proof.

"I'm sure she wants to go home." Euryale rationally concluded.

"Even I want to go home." Stheno's longing was apparent.

"But…she's our friend right?"

"Even if she is our friend we need to respect her decision." Rebutted Stheno.

"That girl was cast away by humans, on the whims of the personification of mankind's desires. Now she  
>returns to the hand that cast her. What is stopping the humans from? If we are truly her friends we<br>need to save her knowing that she may be hurt…" I behooved my sisters.

Both my sister's eyes were downcast yet again. Andromeda's leaving impacted them negatively as it  
>impacted me passionately.<p>

"Selfish sister."

"You, sister, that is really selfish of you."

I blushed at their comments.

"But we'll do it; we'll save that friend of ours. Not because you're our sister, but because you'll do  
>AAAALLLLLL the chores from now on." The glint in my sisters eye was scary but, I would no longer let<br>anyone else precious to me fall in the name of the gods. Not this time, not any other time forward. I will  
>make our happy fantasy into reality.<p>

* * *

><p>Escorted onto a shop with armed guards, Andromeda seemed resolute yet resigned. Her hopeless, yet<br>hopeful face seemed so regal, so beautiful, a stance of defiance, a stance of resolute defiance, yet a sad,  
>sad, submission to her captors and her fate. That was what I had to save; I had to save that submissive<br>side to let her sense of defiance grow. Sh-She spent all her life in a palace, no, not a palace, a prison. I  
>can see her sitting by the window watching the same scenery day by day, watching her once crystal blue<br>sea grow grey, her once clear blue sky grow grey. The splendor and sights turned to an everyday  
>occurrence. The rich foods tasted like ash, no it had less of a taste than ash. Me,me,me, I figure a<br>fragment, a tiny, tiny, ever-distant fragment beckoned. A me feasting on ambrosia. A me bloated by  
>nectar. Me, me, me I think if I met that me I would hate her with an extreme passion which is why<br>now…I want to protect her and her fantasy because doing so would protect the present me and that  
>fantasy that binds "me" together and keep the other "me" at bay. Selfish… I smile ironically and grimly.<br>Stheno and Euryale are completely correct.

"My name is Medusa the phantasm that rules this fantasy known as the Shapeless Isle. Leave the girl  
>and flee, else I will decorate this world world with your blood and entrails."<p>

The army that traversed half a world to recapture a girl fallen from favor of the gods and exiled charged  
>at three defenseless girls. Feeling this unfair I activate it.<p>

The other's sealing temple. I never regarded it anything of use. It serves as a prison -the temple which  
>covers the world- and it serves that purpose perfectly. But as I begin to activate it flashes appear in my<br>vision…second after second, in an instant that seems to never stop.

A fish and a net.

A net woven in perfection.

So perfectly that even if it is a phantasm

-it becomes reality.

All four points… no all eight points covered,

no escape,

There is no escape.

There was never an escape.

There will never be an escape.

No one can escape for her phantasm.

Yes, Andromeda resembled that creature Athena created, the one that creates an all-encompassing net.  
>I have always viewed this barrier and its bars and this island as a prison. Since it spited me, I could only<br>view it in enmity, now after watching her and wishing to save her… I find this phantasm made to bind me  
>beautiful.<p>

So I cast it.

I activate it using the same marks that are the foundation of a temple of blood.

I activate it using the same gestures that are the casting of a temple of blood.

However I activate it using a different incantation-

-and that reshapes the world and shackles all that exist inside it.

Instead of the phantasmal Temple of Blood I create an impregnable, inescapable, fantastical blood fortress.

And holding that image close to my heart, I place her name next to it to remember her for eternity

and cast the true name of her phantasm transformed into an undeniable reality.

"ANDROMEDA!"

The four magical marks at the edges of my world in the four cardinal points activate. I am unable to see  
>them as they are so far away but I am sure the bounded field is set into motion. Why?<p>

The sky.

I am unable to see the sky, rather, instead of a crystal blood sky with puffs of wool scattered about I spy  
>a blood red all-encompassing surrounding, one that will covers and devours the world.<p>

The soldiers start to tremble, but they will not die from this. Man is connected to the world and  
>therefore he has enough prana to survive; however Andromeda will create a burden and because of<br>such a burden - I lick my lips – a massacre will occur.

Stabbed, my sisters are instantly stabbed by spears, they do so defending a mortal me, but in an instant  
>those who stabbed them where stabbed themselves. Stheno and Euryale raised their heads and with the<br>left hand to the mouth:

"OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH."

Their arrogant laugh even strikes fear into my heart.

"Hey, hey, Euryale," a mad smirk appears on Stheno's face.

"Yes, yes Stheno," another mad smile appears on Euryale's face.

"Do these dogs really believe they can kill us?"

"Go back to your master's kennel before you try to touch us."

"Drop dead mortal, you…kill us?"

"That's a fantasy we will now."

"-SHATTER!"

"OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH."

My sisters' wrath was incurred and with their sharp wooden pikes they mercilessly stabbed the invaders.  
>No chance, the invaders stood no chance. They may not die because of the blood fort but they will die<br>due to the blood fort. The men moved slower than fish, so slow in fact that a me who could no use this  
>nail dagger and chain to kill a fish can mutilate a human in one shot. The tempest of blood paints the sky<br>an even greater red, a red that almost borders on crimson vermillion. We continue this natural disaster  
>and raged on and on through the ranks. My sisters would be stabbed and the world would correct the<br>mistake, after all they have the concept of immortality stapled onto their souls and they stab, they stab  
>with ferocity so that whoever that is stabbed dies.<p>

That is how we move.

That is how we are able to fight such an army.

And when a human dies

-they turn into magical energy for me to continue maintain this fortress of blood which leads all to their  
>death.<p>

We weave, we weave and we continue on dancing our three man dance. The chains sweep through the  
>ranks – the same chains that once bound my hands – the nails pierce and kill – the same nails that<br>Andromeda was supposed to kill herself with – these weapons have become truly mine. A whirlwind, my  
>weapons become a whirlwind and… the nails that could not kill a fish now slay hundreds of men who<br>were sent after one little girl. I look up and gaze upon Andromeda on the deck of the ship. I make a  
>silent pledge to save her and protect her fantasy no matter what to renew my spirits. However I do not<br>understand; there is no escape from this Blood Fort so why… why is the ship preparing to leave? A  
>gigantic shadow leaps from the main deck. A tremendous foreboding shadow. This man was not human<br>if he is not human he should not be called a man. Definitely not human. He roared, his bronze sword  
>glowed an eerie, unearthly red tint. He roars and all the other men roar in approval. Check, the magic<br>check, the magic check does not fail; his magical energy is high enough to not be affected by the Blood  
>Fort... Didn't expect it, I didn't expect it. Why didn't I expect it?<p>

I was too busy not expecting it that I was blown aside by the force of his fist. I lay on the ground dazed.  
>On sight I understood the danger of that sword. It's a conceptual weapon, a rare conceptual weapon;<br>one that casts "natural life" on souls which bare the concept of "immortality." I am unable to let my  
>sisters take a blow from that. They are immortal they will be killed. I am mortal I will also be killed,<br>however I was the one that pledged to save that girl. So I'll do it even if right now I am so pitifully  
>groveling on the ground. Even if right now against this half-Cyclops of a beast I have no weapons. Even if<br>right now I cannot see:

"ANDROMEDA!" I roar mainly to inspire myself "NO MATTER WHAT I WILL SAVE YOU. I WILL SAVE YOU  
>EVEN IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SAVED. THAT IS MY PROMISE AS A FRIEND!"<p>

I tear it.

I tear it.

I grip my face and tear the phantasm binding my face.

How easily it just falls off begs the question:

Why didn't I take it off earlier?

With this, this is it.

With this I had disobeyed the gods themselves.

With this I have become an enemy of the gods.

With this the gods will send armies of phantasms to deal with me.

Okay, its okay I reassure myself. Because I did not do anything to save myself in that courtroom: I will do  
>something now. This is my penance towards myself.<p>

I nod, I nod with a satisfied smile even if I am crawling on the ground holding my stomach.

I nod, I nod with a satisfied smile even if my sisters are surrounded by homicidal men.

I nod, I nod with a satisfied simile even if the person I call my friend rejects me.

I nod, I nod with a satisfied smile because-

-I will save them.

This time for sure, I'll save everything I couldn't save last time.

This time for sure, I'll save everything I failed to save last time.

This is the reason.

This is the only reason that on this day,

on this hour,

on this minute,

on this second,

I unleash my fantasy upon the world.

Cybele

-and the world turns to stone.

All the men charging at me turn into stone.

No need, simply no need to shatter them.

Instead I concentrate on the half reality, half phantasm in front of me.

He will not turn into stone.

I know that.

I know he will not turn into stone.

His magical energy is enough to wash that petrification away.

His phantasm is enough to wash that fantasy away.

However-

-he will slow down enough to be killed.

A comet, to him my movement becomes as fast as a comet that streams past, a brilliant light that cuts  
>through your half-truths so then he whose grandfather is the god of fishes moves like a fish. But, no<br>matter how radiant or fast I am his movements have a finesse mine do not. I believed that Cybele would  
>make up for that however I am wrong. I am not actually moving any faster than I usually do, I only seem<br>to be like a comet; therefore, I will never become a comet instead I will remain as the girl who could not  
>fish a fish. And if I continue to be that girl…certainly he will<p>

I am sent flying again.

No more tears on humiliation as I tear and break stone statues with my back.

The world is spinning, just spinning, but I do not tear anymore.

Not anymore.

Never.

Because right now I am fighting for that fragile fantasy.

I flip mid-air and the moment I land I dash.

Instead of weaving through ranks of armed men I weave though ranks of armed stone statues.

And in one motion I pick and throw a dagger at the phantasm.

Easily… easily it is blocked; however the chains wrap the blade and quickly I take such a blade from an  
>unexpected him.<p>

No point. There is no point. There is not point of me having this sword. He may be divine however he is  
>not immortal so while running towards the man I throw away the sword. Spinning in a perfect arc, the<br>phantasmal sword that forces a natural life lands in the water and sinks like a stone.

Perfect, the man has no more weapons; obviously it is one with weapons that will win.

We clash-

Andromeda screams.

-Why am I the one on the ground again?

He didn't have a weapon. All he had were his fists. A fist is weaker than a dagger so am I the one left on  
>the ground? I don't understand-<p>

no, I do understand. I understand it.

A miscalculation on my part.

If all he had was strength-

-then why was his magical energy high enough to nullify the blood fort and only be pressured by Cybele?

Reinforced.

His fist was reinforced and that was the reason I am groveling on the ground a second time and gasping for breath.

It's simple isn't it, his phantasm was more solid that my fantasy ever was.

So…

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.  
>It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.<br>It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.  
>It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.<p>

It hurts so much that I want it to stop. My newly regained vision turns black again and I hear no  
>footsteps. He is not moving towards me. There is no need, he just needs me to run out of prana there is<br>no point in a movement. Movement is something that is not necessary.

Amongst all this Andromeda still screeches my name. Maybe she curses it. Maybe she praises it.  
>Whatever she does with my name is her business, but all that shouting makes me worrisome.<p>

"STOP! IT'S FINE!" she screams. "IT WAS MY DECISION I… JUST LEAVE ME TO BE!"

My bones ache and crack as I stand up. The fantasies of immortality are clearly behind me so I leave  
>them where they belong and reach my hand towards the fantasies ahead.<p>

Fishing.

Swimming.

Sleeping.

Eating Working Playing Sewing Building Crafting Drawing Talking Bleeding Laughing Walking Running  
>Sprinting Reaping Cultivating Growing Farming Holding Praying Thinking Losing Gaining Winning Losing<br>Hating Smiling Feeding Drying Listening Needing Treating Bleaching Creating Gazing Touching Pondering  
>Writing Reading Hugging Trying Hopping Skipping Jumping Reaching Hoping Looking Loving Living-<p>

-all of them…

With you.

So, sorry.

I'm so sorry.

There is so much that needs to be done.

"Wasn't it fun?" I mutter to no one in particular in my darkness "It was certainly fun for me. But do you really want to go back? DO YOU REALLY WANT TO GO BACK TO THAT PHANTASM?"

Every time she talked about that place…

Every time…

She had a sad look in her eyes.

"WERE YOU REALLY HAPPY LIVING IN THAT CASTLE?" I scream on the top of my voice, "OR ARE YOU HAPPY RIGHT NOW, LIVING WITH US?"

"monster." A whisper but the wind carries the word to my ears.

* * *

><p>This is our fantasy.<p>

Once upon a time lived a trio of monster sisters. One day they encountered an exiled princess and  
>became friends. The girl was such a bright girl that one day, even the coldest, loneliest monster decided<br>to go fishing. On that day it seemed that soldiers had come and ravaged the camp. The lonely monster,  
>filled with blood lust, attacked the girl who then ran away.<p>

What is the moral to my fantasy?

"You saved my life." I say.

There is nothing more to be said.

This is the absolute truth. No matter what sort of being that monster was, she would have died if she  
>stayed in that cave instead of going fishing. That is an unchangeable fact. It wouldn't matter if the<br>monster was human, god, elemental, or illusion. The truth still stands that on that day if the monster did  
>not leave that cave.<p>

She would have died.

Therefore that monster is thankful. That monster is thankful even if it cannot express emotions of  
>thankfulness. Life and respect for life is something all living things inherently possess. To not have such a<br>sense is to die before one's appointed time is up. I will repay her by saving her.

That is my fantasy.

So, I reach inside myself. Looking, looking. Why is it. Why is it that even if we are born of the hopes and  
>desires of mankind we have our own hopes and desires?<p>

Ahhhhh, it never occurred to me did it. It never did. Did I have desires and hopes when I was a goddess  
>of beauty?<p>

No.

I had everything.

The reason I have this fantasy is because I am mortal.

The reason I have this hope is because I am mortal.

The reason I have this desire is because I am mortal.

For that I am grateful to those gods.

That and nothing else.

Because now I am a mortal and no longer a god I am a

DEVIL

It doesn't matter it doesn't matter anymore.

You'd think it'd matter but it doesn't.

You'd think that it would somewhat matter but it doesn't.

Because-

I breathe heavily and the blood fort is dispelled. I didn't dispel it I just didn't have enough prana to leave  
>it running along with my eyes. The ship begins to move out. Andromeda reaches her arm out. Don't<br>worry I will save you. However if I don't get past this phantasm first all is lost.

I sprint and become a comet.

My features shift and distort.

Monstrous, the word is monstrous. That is what I become. And my fist easily equals his fist in terms of  
>strength. The prana just floods out into the atmosphere. The phantasm tries to grapple me but I easily<br>leap over its head and elbow him on the back and quickly with a palm I push his back. Fish, he is a fish,  
>slippery like a fish, delicate and full of finesse, yet if the pond he lives is belted by a comet what will<br>happen to the fish?

This.

Chains encircle and twine as they once twined my wrists. A nail dagger closes in on his neck a terrible speed  
>like it once did to Andromeda's. And he is helpless, utterly helpless.<p>

Monstrous strength.

This is what I have gained though the transformation into a monster.

Of course there are consequences. Consequences I quell with my hopes and dreams. Still there is fear.  
>There is fear that one day these consequences will overthrow my consciousness and the crown on my<br>hopes and dreams will be given to these consequences. Quell. Quell.

It a few more additional strikes I catch and gut the fish I was unable to this morning.

-my fantasy will wash any phantasm that tries to invade it.

And I run. I run. I run. I run. We run.

Us three sisters we run towards our friend that is leaving us.

And I fly.

Stheno grabbed Euryale who grabbed me.

Stheno threw Euryale into the sky.

Euryale threw me into the sky.

So with a purpose in mind-

-I flew.

I throw a dagger nail which digs into the ship's hull and use that to propel myself forward.

If I were to use the chain as a rope it would definitely snap and I would tumble into the ocean.

Andromeda reaches with her fingers as if to try grasping mine.

I reach with my fingers as if to try grasping hers.

They never touch.

So I leave her with the next best thing.

I close my eyes so I do not turn her to stone and say.

"Thank you for saving me."

I say so from the bottom of my heart.

"I'll be waiting for you." She whispers sealing the next meeting.

So, I fall and plunge into the cold wet darkness.

I don't want this reality, why can't we back into our fantasy?

A voice whispers in my head: "Because you are weak."

Ahh, so I have to get stronger, stronger so that

-this warm, light fantasy becomes a reality that does not let any phantasms invade it.

* * *

><p>I walk along the shoreline, a final penance that I am allowed before the day of my execution. I see an object trapped by the sand and I pick it up. A message in a bottle. A message to anyone, including me. I uncork it and take the dried papyrus out. A dainty handwriting reads:<p>

_Dear Andromeda:_

_This is my 87__th__ letter I am writing to you. Like the rest I will throw them into the sea in hopes that one will  
>reach you. Stheno and Euryale are doing well and like before mentioned I am doing all the housework<br>without complaining, I have become proficient in most tasks by now. My training has also progressed up  
>the point I can stab a flying bird. But I try not to. Tree's heal, birds do not, so I try to keep that to a<br>minimum. So how are you, Andromeda are they keep you well there? Is it okay? Are you getting happier?  
>I'll come after you okay. Someday I'll find you. Even if my body is degrading at the rate that it is and I see<br>more blood and blood each day. Someday I'll find you and save you. Someday that fantasy we dreamt of  
>will become reality, so until that that let's be strong in our separate worlds. Even if we are apart if we<br>wish strongly enough our feelings can be together… Because we're friends right?_

_Stheno and Euryale give their regards,_

_Your Friend,_

_Medusa_

I touch my face and to my surprise: tears. Tears are falling. I should be smiling; it's a letter from her after  
>all. After eight years a letter has finally reached me. What irony that it is the day before my execution.<br>My mother she did it again. This time by proclaiming I was a greater beauty than the gods. I know she  
>won't save, I know she won't but she has. This letter and this golden sunset. They have saved me from<br>my impending death. So I will accept this death with grace befitting with one so blessed to have  
>accompanied the goddess' of the Shapeless Isle.<p>

* * *

><p>Endless dreams become dreams of dreams and even those become dreams of dreams of dreams.<br>Dreams are all I have left. Dreams are all I am. Who was I? Who am I? I don't know. I don't care. All I  
>care about is that tiny fantasy of And-<p>

-footsteps, fresh meat. I forget that I forgot what I was thinking about and face five phantasms with this single fantasy I have.

* * *

><p>The chains entwine my wrist softly kissing and caressing. Being chained to a rock like this makes me<br>wonder about her and how she must have felt. My fantasy breaks and am confronted by a phantasm. To  
>confront a phantasm one needs a phantasm of equal power of a fantasy of a greater power. The gigantic<br>phantasmal beast roars at the sight of a sacrifice. Ceto, a gigantic sea monster. My eyes are closed so I  
>see nothing; I see nothing to remain still. I am sure if I opened it my eyes I would be so scared, so terrified.<p>

As terrified as the mortal that faced a phantasm without a phantasm of her own.

In the end, all she could use was a fantasy, an image born from her mind. That mortal was my friend. I  
>learnt everything from that mortal so for now I immerse myself in those illusions born from my soul to<br>deflect the phantasm that is ready to crush me. I accept it. I accepted it. I accepted everything. Yet at the  
>moment I was chained to rock I struggled. I struggled with a power I did not know I had. I…You… you<br>once told me that you were my friend. You once even promised me we would meet one more time. And  
>I what did I say to all that love you supplied…<p>

"monster"

Those were my words. So right now it is not the phantasm in front of me that scares me, that terrifies  
>me. It is my own fantasy the fantasy I destroy, the fantasy that I broke, the fantasy that almost became a<br>reality: our reality.

I open my eyes which are filled with such hopelessness that even I cannot bare to stare into them from  
>the reflection of Ceto's eyes. These eyes are filled with tears uncountable. No attempt can be made to<br>wipe them away and I speak, I speak not to the phantasm but to the fantasy.

"I-I don't want to die."

I bite my lip. Death is scary. Scary, and cold. So cold, it's colder than that prison of a castle. I don't want to die, so… please…

"SAVE ME MEDUSA!"

I scream; I scream even if no one will hear me.

I scream; I scream even if no one can help me.

I scream; I scream, I just scream.

Because if there is hope there is pain, because if there is pain if I am alive, and because if I'm alive there

-is hope.

Hope that she will save me.

"CLOSE YOUR EYES!" A low pitch scream breaks the waves.

I do as commanded.

A roar that sends waves to break stones suddenly ceases allowing me to gingerly open my eyes and face  
>the figure that saved me.<p>

Ahold in his hand is the phantasm known as the head of Medusa.

Oh, so he is her killer.

He lowers Medusa's eyelids so the mystic eyes do not petrify anything else.

I see her face and I see a faint smile twinkling.

A satisfied smile.

A good way to end a life.

In the face of five phantasms, she used one fantasy and this is her end.

This is an end she can be proud of, unlike me who was screaming for salvation on that rock.

Even if she died the mortal's fantasy broke though the man's five phantasms.

Even if she died the evidence is in her smile.

Yea, she can proud of this.

So I cannot hate him for killing her.

I cannot hate him while there is such a satisfied smile on her face.

I cannot hate him while he has fulfilled her promise to me.

And most of all I cannot hate him because he saved my life.

She taught me through her actions that salvation always needed to be paid back.

That is the fantasy that Medusa has left Andromeda.


	9. into Archer: superhero

**into Archer: Superhero**

"_My memory will fade away someday, and I will forget about her voice and her gesture._

_But still – I'll remember forever that this thing occurred and that I loved Saber."_

_-Emiya Shirou, Fate/stay Night_

Sometimes I still recall

-that dark night of fate I wished would continue forever. The sound of fiercely screaming swords still  
>rings through my ears. Against the king's treasury, she fought so bravely. Even if I was unable to gaze<br>upon such a battle, the proof on my right hand confirmed she was fighting with all she had and after I  
>stabbed the fake priest<p>

-she left.

Our golden separation had everything I ever wanted to say to her. In losing her, the person that sat in the seat  
>of my heart, I gained a little sister, someone I pledged to protect; therefore I had lost someone precious<br>but I gained someone precious. I was still at zero.

That is the only reason I survived that separation. The gaping vacancy in my heart was filled ever so  
>slightly, but now I stand with my heart empty in front of that little sister's grave, right next to the old<br>man's.

Empty, my heart may be empty but I still have people important to me, thoughts of Fuji-nee,  
>Sakura, Tohsaka, even Issei, those… I'm scared one day they will also leave me. No, not leave, to leave is<br>done by choice; I could respect such a choice. I am scared I will one day lose them just like I lost her

_-because these hands will never hold anything._

* * *

><p>I walk back to the Emiya Household and stare at the streets I pass. These are the same streets she<br>walked through with me two years ago, so even now I can still feel her presence beside me as if such a  
>happiness was normal. Two weeks, I only knew that girl for two weeks, yet… why do I view her as<br>someone I have known all my life? While trying to not think too deeply about that question, I arrive at  
>the house and enter.<p>

An "I'm home," rings out of my mouth automatically.

There is no reply but I falsely almost imagined her voice chiming the answering phrase "Welcome back."

I walk to Ilya's room; even if she is no longer alive this will always be her room. I still remember the days  
>after Ilya perished. They were filled with distraught, a distraught filled with grief. My separation with Ilya<br>was different, so different from my golden separation with her. One went back to her home, proud of  
>her life, the other tumbled alone into the darkness. I was so distraught, so distraught I left Fuyuki for<br>England under the pretense of "visiting Tohsaka." I did end up visiting her for a week, but my true  
>intention was to climb the golden hills "she" had once climbed. Subconsciously I wished to prove that<br>even if fate did not let us be together, there will always be someway we can be together. I was angry  
>at fate in my mourning and I think that pilgrimage was my small act of defiance. I walked through any<br>town, any village that bore any reference to "King Arthur." And in those towns I visited on my selfish  
>pilgrimage I told those who lived there stories, her story, the story of a girl, not a king, who loved her<br>nation…but her nation did not love her back. That was the message I preached, yet many did not heed it  
>and deemed me a fool for believing in her sex was such.<p>

"Who was Mordred?" men would ask.

"Her son, but made from magecraft." I would answer.

They did not believe in the existence of magecraft and it would be an act akin to suicide to show them magecraft existed.

* * *

><p>The pilgrimage that took about three months was to end at Glastonbury Abbey - the place she was said to<br>be buried, Avalon. The first time I glimpsed the area of land I knew instantly this was not the Distant Utopia  
>she dreamed of. I know since Avalon has lived in my body for ten years. She was not buried here;<br>this place had nothing to do with her. This place was not Avalon, and it will never be Avalon, so my  
>intended final destination turned out not to be my final destination. Instead I turned to Camlann and yes,<br>I could feel her presence. I could see her on top of the hill of bodies clinging onto Excalibur hoping,  
>praying with all her heart for a miracle. I laid down on the hill with the significance never escaping me.<br>We are only two people, our timelines converged for two weeks and then we were separated…  
>so the act of actually walking in your footsteps has made you seem so much more real. And with that I left and<br>arrived home today.

* * *

><p>I returned to the kitchen. In this peaceful kitchen I still remember it, her scent as we cut radish,<br>the way she ate everything and anything I prepared; she was a perfect person to cook for. Leaving those  
>thoughts behind I wonder what to make for dinner. Again my family has become a trio, ever since Ilya's<br>death though Issei comes and eats, rarely though. I absent-mindedly start cutting up the vegetables to  
>make tonight's curry. I do not concentrate and end up cutting myself again and again. I do not care<br>because I can barely feel anything. It hurts; it really does, but right now being in this house where  
>she lived hurts more than a knife injury. With bloodied hands I set the pot to simmer. I leave for the<br>bathroom to disinfect and bandage my wounds. I slowly rise and go back to the living room. I lift the lid  
>and let the aroma waft through the house. No happiness, I can find no happiness in cooking, not<br>anymore because the very act of cooking reminds me of her. Glazed eyes watch the television. No news,  
>no unexpected gas explosions or serial killings on the street nothing but ( ). Then a long forgotten priest's<br>words ring through my head:

"Rejoice, boy. Your wish will finally come true."

I hate that he was right, I hate that he was so right about me.

I never knew how much joy filled me until the end of the war.

Empty. Those days past, the days I loved, the person I loved. Gone.

The pot starts making sounds and I sigh, I sigh and return cooking in a somber reflective mood.

* * *

><p>Sakura returns home at about five o'clock. She attends the local university which I also "attend." She<br>cannot decide what to purse nursing or teaching. Both seem to tempt her. However, I believe that Fuji-nee's  
>influence will tempt her into becoming a teacher. It was Ilya's death that tempted her to try becoming a nurse.<br>Sakura will inherit this house or her children will at least. It feels like having an heir. Soon after the Grail was  
>destroyed, Sakura's grandfather died of natural causes. Since that she has being living with me. The day<br>Sakura moved in, Ilya was ecstatic, but I was surprised, other than the clothes she had…nothing, no memorabilia,  
>and barely any jewelry that her suitcase looked so empty. It seems the Matou library had been given to Tohaska<br>and the house sold to pay for Sakura's tuition.

"Senpai," she still calls me that, embarrassing now we are adults, "Welcome home." A genuine smile maybe the  
>first genuine smile I have seen since coming back.<p>

"Sakura, I'm home." No matter what I feel I cannot help but smile back at this earnest girl.

* * *

><p>Fuji-nee won't admit it, but she's getting older, of course she's still in her twenties but in these two years Fuji-nee<br>has matured. The old man told me a story once about a girl he knew. Her name escapes me but he said one day  
>Fuji-nee will reach that girl, a bright and cheerful girl, a sun in a world of clouds. The old man shared a great insight.<br>The hustle and bustle of the old days come back in a pressed manner, no one can truly express their  
>happiness, yet it would be a great dishonor to those that have fallen to be sad. Fate… I think this is fate. A fate I want<br>to move on from, never stop moving; after all I have a person I need to chase…

* * *

><p>A firing hammer smashes down in my mind and the spell "Trace On," is murmured as a suggestion to change myself and<br>twenty seven, all twenty seven circuits feebly try to roar. The first lantern shatters, the second shatters, the third shatters,  
>concentrate, the fourth one shatters, the fifth one cracks, the sixth is reinforced, the seventh is reinforced, the eight is reinforced,<br>the final stretch, the ninth cracks, and the tenth shatters. Sakura looks at me exasperated.

"You haven't been practicing at all, have you?" she hopelessly asks.

Sakura is a magus. Ilya revealed that. Sakura insists she had no idea what the Grail War was and insists she was not involved. I  
>believe her because I want to believe that is true. Ever since Tohsaka left for England Sakura has been looking after my training<br>and acting as Second Owner. I don't understand as I thought only blood relatives could become Second Owner. Sense, there is no  
>sense, but I have a teacher and most of all, I have a friend.<p>

* * *

><p>Situated inside Mount Enzo, the Great Grail is a five hundred meter monolith made from carved magic circles.<br>In the center lays the true Snow White, the Saint of Winter, never to wake again. Her serene face  
>and her Dress of Heaven deem her the true Cup of Heaven. However, she has no purpose, she started<br>the Grail War and she now has no more reason to live. A foreign magus arrived a while ago to shut down  
>the system ensuring no Sixth Heaven's Feel would occur; however, just because such a system shut down<br>does not mean the ley lines providing prana for the system were shut down. Even if the Great Grail  
>would no longer accept prana, prana was sent. And therein lies the problem. The problem created by a<br>broken man obsessed with saving the world. The last desperate act of that man was create a bump, a  
>bump in a ley line which over a period of twenty years would collect enough prana – to take down the<br>Great Grail with an earthquake. It had only been twelve years so there should have been an extra eight  
>years of peace. Too bad the broken man never fathomed that in ten years there would be another Grail War in Fuyuki. Unprecedented amounts<br>of prana flooded the ley line which meant unpredicted amounts of prana were "bumped" enough that on this particular night the bump was overflowing.  
>What about the foreign magus sent to shut down the Grail? Surely he would have noticed the irregularity in that ley line.<br>It is a mistake that foreign magus would burden himself with for the rest of his life. The broken man  
>called it the most beautiful piece of magecraft he had created throughout his life. For a man whose<br>name was the "Magus Killer," a man specializing in trespassing bounded fields, to say such a thing surely  
>meant that it was near impossible to detect. This bump was to be the final miracle, a seed to grow into a<br>tree that sheltered the later generations. What would happen would make such a man roll in his grave.

* * *

><p>There was no spectacular bang, there was no spectacular explosion, it actually wasn't spectacular at all.<br>Ironically it resembled the broken man's death, quiet and with a sigh of relief. All it was a slight break in  
>the ley line and then it collapsed, cut off from the Great Grail. A slight rumble was emitted and that detonated<br>the explosives the man who could not become a hero left behind. Because they were so deep  
>underground they were also not spectacular, however the disturbance they caused was enough to<br>knock out the other ley lines. No more ley lines would supply the Grail prana. Eight years, it was eight  
>years to early but the Grail was shut down and now unable to start up again. Where would the prana go?<br>Where would the prana go now if it was no longer plugged into the Great Grail? The prana bled out. The  
>land once so abundant in prana bled, it bled and it bled, first into the gigantic cavern, seeping, seeping<br>through the rocks, crushing them. Without a container prana disappears into the atmosphere unused.  
>But what if… What if that prana was replaced faster than it would take to fade away? A pilliar is created, a<br>pillar of solid prana, enough prana that a magus would be able to summon heroes of the past, enough prana  
>for a magus to break a hole into Akasha. That was the amount of prana flooding into Fuyuki. It started from the cavern<br>and because of that the colourless prana cast a luminous green and bathed the  
>cavern in an eerier, more unearthly green. The cavern capacity that easily exceeded one thousand units<br>of mana was saturated to tens of thousands of units. That was the beginning. The pillars only appeared in the paths of  
>the ley lines. The first fountain to bloom was the temple itself. The thousand stairs all cracked and tumbled as if<br>an eroding stone sculpture. The hill of golden separation turned into a luminous green  
>defiling the boy and girl's separation and became littered with green fountains of prana.<p>

And it sped through the Miyamachou suburban district. The prana materialized and the force crashed  
>into houses and homes. The school that was once a "blood fort" turned into a fortress of prana. If one<br>looked inside a classroom the sight one would be confronted with would somewhat resemble  
>ephemeral fireworks that neither flew nor fizzled out. Dense prana held contained for two years, the<br>Fourth Grail War left at least ninety percent of prana in the grail and then only ten years was needed to  
>make up the next ten percent. Now the conclusion of the Fifth Grail war, seven Servants were<br>materialized… eight Servants went back in. An extra Servant's prana was literally "shoved" into the ley  
>lines and then the Grail and finally back into The Supreme Spiral, Akasha. The lapse in time is because of that eighth Servant.<p>

After sweeping through the Miyamachou district the prana swept through the river. The river started to  
>glow and with it the harbor. The harbor's glow made the lighthouse negligible on this night. One could<br>say even the fish leapt out of the sea to see this spectacle.

The Shinto district looked as it was hit by a subterranean wave, a wave that consumed the whole city.  
>Windows of shops were shattered the skyscrapers tilted and tilted some more. The city was awash with<br>prana, death by drowning in prana was the prognosis of this city.

Four points there were four points where this anomaly seemed more concentrated; of course,  
>Ryuudouji Temple, the epicenter. The other places were the Tohaska mansion, the burnt out field, and<br>the church on the hill. These were the four areas which the Cup of Heaven –The Holy Grail- was able to descend.  
>The burned out field, the bounded field that saw the end of the Fourth Grail War, instead of being<br>ablaze with fire and mud the field is ablaze with green prana, a sacred sight that felt defiled in such a  
>cursed site. Many people were initially frightened about the green prana which looked like a flame, yet<br>it soon was deemed a harmless phenomenon. The Tohsaka mansion was less lovely. Already known in  
>the town as haunted the house's reputation further decreased due to the prana pillars being blasted<br>into the atmosphere. The church that had been empty since that day the foreign magus came to shut  
>down the system had opened its doors to gaze in rapture at the night of marvel. All four points were set<br>for a night of miracles.

* * *

><p>In a quiet Emiya household Fujimura Taiga was finally asleep after romping around drunk. Due to this<br>very normal behavior she was unable to see the sight Sakura and I were able to. My eyes were glued to  
>the scene, prana had burst though the floor of the shed and when we had left to the yard. I imagined all<br>of Fuyuki like this, fountains, a gigantic fountain, a gigantic fountain of prana. Yet my only thought was:

"I wish she was here to see this."

I think I actually said that out loud. I turned my head and saw a different kind of rapture in Sakura's face.

Fear.

There was something about this sight that frightened her, something so horrendous that made her  
>cringe. Something terrifying. Her lips slowly moved. No sound…<p>

No, I just couldn't hear those words.

No, I didn't want to hear those words.

To stifle those words I run.

I sprint.

It starts as soon as I pass the school. The spectacle is all over all as the prana starts to fade away into the air  
>like one of my own projections. What took two years of painfully hoard is gone within the hour.<p>

And it starts the rumble all around me…

"Earthquake"

Those were her words.

No, not words but a prediction and from the look of her face seemed to be something that would pass no matter what,  
>an inevitability. Sakura was right, the ground's shaking, and houses, buildings, towers, they all tumble.<p>

Cold, I feel a cold breeze my eyes sting and my vision becomes blurry. I cannot save these people in that  
>burning house. I cannot save those people in this burning house. An emotion of emptiness fills me. I<br>promised her I would keep to my ideals, so… why am I running to an omnipotential wish granting  
>machine when I should be helping others in any way possible? I can't, I can't because if I save people<br>here those people on the other side of the bridge would die. I cannot let that happen. I want a world  
>where everyone is saved; if I cannot save my world what are the chances of saving the world? So this<br>time I cannot rely on myself, I cannot save this town if I only rely on myself. My tracing skill does nothing  
>against something like this even if<p>

_-I have created over a thousand blades._

Again I fall; the quake has gone on for ten minutes now and I collapse. The sky is red, so red, fire, fires  
>from stoves, from chemicals; they all remind me of that day, the day twelve years ago. From my view<br>flat on the ground it seems like the heavens are ready to rip open. Those are the memories of that day  
>however this night, this shaking night is nothing like that, it rained then, it will not rain now, the heavens will<br>not bless this town this night where fate stood still.

"Trace on-"

The words serve as a suggestion to change myself. It hurts, projection is a magic that beyond me. Those  
>are Tohsaka's words and I know it's true because<p>

_-I have withstood pain to create many weapons._

Not just pain, but a pain that washes every emotion out of one's system, every move, every thought,  
>every sound and redirects all that emotion into two words.<p>

It hurts.

However, facing the sky like this gives me the urge of project something, anything so I will not feel so  
>alone. So the hammer goes down and I am filled as prana runs through these circuits. I visualize a jumble<br>of images of famous swords from around the globe.

Gram

Merodach

Durandal

Harpe

How am I supposed to create these blades with my mind alone?

Kanshou

Bakuya

Calabolg

Dansielf

_-Because, steel is my body and fire is my blood_

Therefore the only tool I need to use projection is myself.

I go deeper to…

Her lost golden sword of assured victory?

No, that sword symbolizes her, but it does not get me any closer to her. Filled with contentment  
>amongst a hell I let my body project whatever it wishes. My body instantly bypasses all manufacturing<br>processes, you see as it was a part of my body, my body serves as the blueprint itself and in an instant  
>resting on my hand is<p>

-Avalon: All is a Distant Utopia.

No sword will ever be projected as perfectly as this sheath.

This is my greatest projection.

I let the light of the phantasm emits wash over me. For a second I am as close to her as I was on that  
>fateful day two years ago when we both reached for this light.<p>

Like that other day my hand again reaches for the sky, not because the sky is far but because I have  
>resolved to save as many as possible, so I cannot stay here.<p>

I…have…to…move, that was her action even as she faced death…so…let's go.

_-I am the bone of my sword, _

so I can endure more than most people.

Amidst the raging earth I stand, I stand in a place where everyone else is falling. As the person standing  
>I have an obligation to save them. So I run, I run even if the pleas and begging of those that need to be<br>saved burn my ears, brings tears to my eyes, and breaks my empty heart. Yet, I run, I run through the  
>abyss of a night guided by the hellfires of burning houses.<p>

* * *

><p>A deep cavern is the destination I reach. I do not understand how I came here all I know is that I can see<br>the Great Grail is here and the dank stench of prana that fills the air is ten thousand. There are at least  
>ten thousand units of prana here. So again I run. I run through the cavern to a gigantic clearing and start<br>to climb the elevated surface extending, seemingly extending into infinity.

Step by step by step. The earth has not stopped rumbling. Has not stopped. Help me. I look at my right  
>hand, nothing, the proof of my time with her is gone. There is no evidence she ever exist other than<br>what is in my heart.

Step by step by step. Ilya, Ilya, Ilya why did you have to die? You were my only family. When I thought I  
>would live my life without anyone being related to me… you showed up. You called me your big brother<br>and even if you… you were someone precious to me.

The rumbling becomes stronger and again I fall however I do not stop moving. Crawling, even if I have to  
>crawl I do so. Every second that I save another life is potentially saved. Ahhh, I need to move, closer<br>and closer and closer. There. My hand reaches out and brushes the gigantic monolith. Prana is coursing  
>through; enough there is enough, enough to save the world, enough to even<p>

memories flash through my mind

-bring her back into this world…

memories of her

No, no, no even if I don't know… know it; I will believe she died happily. I am sure she died proud of her life  
>and I am sure she does not want another chance at this worrisome thing called life. I rid myself of those<br>self-effacing thoughts. Bringing the dead back to life and changing to past is wrong, I was the one that  
>taught her that, so if I go back on my words now… she will not accept me, she will not accept the life<br>that I had given her so I wish, I wish with all my heart that everyone would be saved.

* * *

><p>The Grail does not hear the boy's cries and pleas, after all the ley lines have all been disconnected prana<br>can no longer be distributed. It however can be siphoned away. The boy does not have the ability to do  
>that. He is a blacksmith nothing else. All he can do is materializing his inner world. He does not have the<br>knowledge or ability to siphon prana from this Grail. Moreover the boy forgot, the boy forgot what  
>every desperate man or woman forgets. No they don't forget, they want to believe. The Grail is tainted.<br>The Grail is tainted with the curse of all the evils in the world. The boy who fought so earnestly against  
>those evils forgot about them. The boy so obsessed with saving people as if it was a curse forgot that if<br>he was to make a wish everyone would just die. The curse of all the evils in the world takes a backseat  
>when meeting the curse of saving everyone. Maybe they are the same thing, the wish to save everyone<br>means that there has to exist something to save people from. All the evils in the world are a convenient  
>excuse to save people. So perhaps the boy's ideal is merely an extension of a curse. Such are the<br>paradoxes in this world however luckily for the boy another paradox exists because now the Grail has  
>shut down the Grail can no longer grant wishes, but because the Grail has been shut down the boy's<br>wish can be fulfilled. Fulfilled but at a cost.

The Grail was not a process for forcing a way into Akasha rather it merely traced a path opened by the  
>pathway of souls. The world still views this as a threat, so if the world was able to find out what was<br>going on the counter force would be sent to destroy this ritual. Barriers, numerous high-thaumaturgies  
>surrounded the monolith and weaved a magecraft close to magic keeping this place under wraps. Now<br>that the Grail has been shut down and such a great number of people are dying the world has decided  
>to visit as it visited Camlann on that fateful day. It is this awareness the boy reaches his hand to.<p>

* * *

><p>For the second time in his life Emiya Shirou is moved, for the second time Emiya Shirou is moved by<br>something. From the depths of his heart he is moved by something that is not beautiful, not like she was,  
>but something that is so overwhelming, so overwhelming that he must be moved by it lest it would<br>move him by force. This is a thing so great, so great that the awareness can only be called the awareness  
>of the World.<p>

That is the "thing" I reach for now. I know this will cost me, after all it cost her so much. But I cannot  
>believe this is a mistake. So I look from the bottom of my heart and reach into the awareness<p>

-and make a pact.

"Save… Save everyone in this town."

The awareness does not respond, it wants an offer.

I think about everything I can offer. Everything that I can offer means nothing to this world. So what can  
>I sacrifice to save everyone this in front of me?<p>

-Yourself.

That is the final answer. I knew, I knew from the start that not everybody can be saved. So if I can save  
>so many for my life… I think this life would have been worth it. I'm sure that many would disagree with<br>me; however, they are not me. The seat of my heart is where she sat. She is now gone, yet she still sits on that  
>seat. Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? If I stop here… what will become of my<br>ideal? I would just be proving that knight in red right now wouldn't I?

I think of the knight in blue and how even if he killed me beginning the night of fate, he ultimately protected my temporary dream.

I think of the knight in red and how even if he told me to follow through with my decision his distant back provoked me to follow the path he took.

I think of the black giant and how even if he loomed like a night without dawn I was bless to watch his fight which replayed the legends so many admire.

I think of the fictitious swordsman and how even if he was only a guardsman he was as elegant as the moonlight.

I think of the lady of fresh blood and how even if she was the ring master of a death circus she taught me how to fall down on my mind.

I think of the witch on top of the hill and how even if she tried to envelope my heart like a Walpurgis Night she died such a pitiful death.

I think of the golden knight and how even if he was an enemy that must be defeated he showed me what I want to protect and that which cannot be surrendered.

But, most of all I think of the girl, the girl who met the boy, the girl who ran through life, the girl wrapped in steel her whole life, and how even if she was my only star, my shining star, the price of our meeting and our settlement with fate was our eventual golden separation.

All these people are

-_unknown the Death, nor known to Life_

and so will I.

However, this is not for honor, this is for nothing of the sort. This is my final option. I have nothing else  
>to give other than this. So I will have to give it. I will have to give my everything. The moment I die I will<br>lose all chance to reincarnate. The moment I die I will lose my past, present, and future. I will lose all and  
>everything ever precious to me… is that worth it? To just save these people.?<p>

I do not believe it is a mistake

-_so as I pray…_

"SAVE EVERYONE IN THIS TOWN AND I WILL BECOME A COUNTER GUARDIAN TO SERVE THE WORLD FOR ETERNITY!"

my shout is my answer.

If I become a counter-guardian, I will be able to save many others even after my own death. Save and  
>save and save. Yes, I know it's self-satisfaction, but that is my choice. I really want to live and die like any<br>other person, I really did. However:

"…entrust it with me. Entrust me with your dream."

An old promise made under the moonlight assaults my memory.

I will move.

I will move forward.

And I will save.

Even if it is a borrowed ideal

-I believe it is beautiful.

I struggle out of this decaying cavern which is slowly breaking apart.

The hell has quieted, hundreds of lives have been saved, but this is only the beginning.

Slowly I collapse, it seems my body is more ragged then I thought.

I am on the verge of death.

How do I know?

I can seem them, everyone who died

everyone who died so painfully

everyone who died so happily

everyone who died who was important to me

is on the other side of that hill

that hill of swords.

On the verge of death I see the path set for me,

an infinite wasteland filled with swords.

I threw away everything and gambled on a miracle and this is what I have achieved.

Not only that hill of swords, I see my destination at the end of that infinite wasteland.

A girl stands there.

A girl waiting for me to purse her endlessly.

A girl waiting for me to transcend space and time to finally arrive to her embrace.

So even if this journey costs me the memories of her voice and gestures,

-it is recorded in my soul that

-I loved Saber.

So I will start running right now because on the other side of this infinite creation of swords is where all  
>is a distant utopia.<p>

I put my foot on the start line and take off leaving Emiya Shirou behind.


	10. into Another: fall Down Into my Illusion

**into Another: fall down into my illusions**

_"So the winter went by, and the spring came along._  
><em>Nature is in its full bloom, and there is nothing left that reminds of the hard cold days.<em>  
><em>Stash away both what you lost and gained, for life continues on.<em>  
><em>Now then…<em>  
><em>The story that unraveled in this town has reached its conclusion.<em>  
><em>New stages and people are waiting for us…"<em>  
><em>-Fatestay night_

A thud, I fall and my senses reel nauseously. My vision becomes blurry for an instant and when I regain my sight I see…

-so beautiful.

Our eyes meet. The irises of these eyes are square, completely square, yet, even if they are so edged, I am able to see into all the sadness, all the happiness that is contained in those perfectly shaped eyes. It seems that only now with my glasses out of the way I can truly see how beautiful such a gaze is. Just so-

* * *

><p>It's really quite uncomfortable sitting with her in this café when she's staring at me so intensely as I try to awkwardly avoid her gaze. Even on the street, even in this dingy little café, she doesn't fit in. The place she does fit is-<p>

a cliff at the edge of the world.

-a catwalk. Huh? Why did that bleak image suddenly come to mind? Nevertheless I concede to myself in resignation that a catwalk would not fit her either because even if she has the features of a classic beauty; high forehead and cheekbones, pale snow white skin, the tall slender but full figure, there is something serpent-like about her that would frighten all the other models away. Hmm, a model doesn't fit her; most models are foxes like Tohasaka. No, this woman is an existence that rays of light should be spotlighting, an existence wrapped in pure white, but I can only imagine her in pitch black. Those rays of lights she should be emitted are wrapped in an oozing tar, a corruption of sorts and that corruption makes me wary because it reminds me of the woman who stole Souichirou's heart and soul, and everyone in the temple knows what the ending of that story was. Still though, I can't stand her just staring at me like that so I try to break the silence with a few words. Even if she was the one that brought me here I ask her if she wants to order anything.

She shakes her head; even a blatant rejection seems graceful. Yet, I do not like her; I do not like her at all. The plain black turtleneck sweater and the faded jeans seem to mock her aura of divinity, I should stay wary even if her eyes…

Walking home after an errand I bumped into her, she was carrying a vase enwrapped in what seemingly was a paper bag. When we bumped into each other our glasses flew off and our eyes met, it was at that instant she began to have a strange look on her face, grabbed me, and led me here to this dingy old café.

I sip my coffee cautiously wondering what she wants from me. The vase wrapped in a paper bag on the table is undamaged or so I hope. It seems like an ancient antique. She turns to me:

"What are you?" She asks slicing the silence away.

I cough, nearly choking on my coffee at the sudden question.

"What are you?" She asks again without any regard for what just happened.

Maybe she was a foreigner?

"Ryuudou Issei, a student." I try to reply as normally as I can.

Her gaze is sharp. "No 'student' can take Cybele point blank."

Human? And if I remember correctly Cybele was the Greek goddess of fertility.

"Umm, you are?" I ask uncomfortably.

Cold, the voice is cold, "I have many names, but these days I go by Rider."

Ri-de-r

I wordlessly taste the sound with my mouth.

An unfamiliar name that sounds all too familiar.

Where?

Where have I heard that name?

"Take of your glasses," she commands, "And look at this vase."

Her tone is devoid of emotion yet… I obey. I take off these glasses and…

I stifle my queasy stomach.

An ominous, sooty, dark cloud circles the vase, maliciously glaring at all that pass.

I want to vomit, I really do, I really want to but I don't, I don't because I couldn't bear vomiting in front of her.

She looks expectantly at the vase and with some disappoint. "Pshh, nothing. Touch it."

My hand reaches out before I command it to,

I try with all my might to retract the arm

-it's no use. I am unable to control my actions and all I am left with is the thought…

I don't want to,

I'll die,

I'll die because somehow I know that vase will kill me,

I'll die if I touch that va-

A touch and a sharp burst of darkness tries to reach up my hand as soon as the pads of fingers brush the cool, ceramic surface but the sooty cloud is shattered, no, sliced in half.

Trembling,

I'm trembling.

The fingers that are now picking up these well-worn glasses are trembling and she is thinking seriously with two fingers on her forehead.

"It's the eyes, a change of colour when released, does it dispel upon activation of the magecraft, even if it's infinitely close to magi-"

"Excuse me," I cut her off.

She looks at me.

Why does she look at me like I threaten her existence?

"I don't understand any of this." The usually cool and calm me is shattered.

"You are definitely something not human, if you were human as soon as you touched that vase you would have died." Flat, cold, emotionless… Such a serpentine voice.

Even so I am entranced.

"Why were you carrying something so potentially dangerous like that around town?"

Her reply is a look devoid of comprehension.

"People, people may have gotten hurt."

She looks perplexed, "You remind me of him," She says to no one in particular. "I just happened to be taking this to a specialist, but it's fine since you saved me the trouble."

She says it kills all the humans it comes in contact with; therefore, I can conclude she is not a human since she was carrying it around. That is all I understand.

* * *

><p>It is the intersection of summer and spring; the sky is still golden but only for another hour. The streets of Shinto are full of hustle and bustle. Multitudes of people are moving, just moving without a purpose. Their dull eyes when compared to hers… no purpose, just like mine. I think among these people no one would recognize me.<p>

A brief motion and I glimpse a slight passing of long lavender hair. The air seems to suddenly turn scarlet and I fall to my knees on the pavement. The rage that is not evident in her face is so…

She disappears, the space she once occupied is so empty there is no trace she was ever here, so run, I run and chase a phantom. I chase that phantom because I have a terrible premonition that I wish to stop from becoming a terrible reality. I run, and, turning the corner with a skid, I reach the beginning of an alleyway, a place where even the golden sun turns pitch black.

Don't go.

My head throbs.

Danger.

My head throbs.

I don't want to die.

My head…

In front of my eyes…

I don't believe the sight in front of my eyes.

Rider stands as if a statue, the same Rider I held a conversation a few hours ago, with a mass of flesh in her hands. The bodies that surround her are so numerous and so wounded that in this cavern-like alleyway…

-it's raining blood.

The air is saturated by blood; so much, that her glasses are clouded with blood that not only splatters staining her faded jeans but also blooms on her pure white skin.

My legs give out at such an unholy, yet sacred sight. There is something wrong with me because I'm shivering, not because I am horrified at the bodies surrounding, but at her figure, I was never comfortable around women and I am even less comfortable around things that are not human. I should be screaming or retching but this time, I am fixated with the figure of this murderer. Eventually, my bottom hits the ground and makes a dull sound, a sound that she hears and by following the sound she turns.

She turns.

She turns and sees me.

Even if her glasses are clouded with blood she will see me.

She can see me, so she will chase me.

If she chases me she will kill me.

If she kills me I am dead.

Dead.

So I immediately push off the ground.

Scary, if this is truly her then Rider is scary and I should have never bumped into her, even if by accident.

I should have never…

-thought she was beautiful.

I try to shake the inappropriate thought through my mind. I laugh. I crazily laugh as I run. Even in this situation I still believe she is beautiful. I admit it. It's true; from the bottom of my heart I thought and still think she is beautiful even as she stood amongst so many ugly things. But she will kill me; she will kill me unless I run.

I run out of Shinto.

I run past the bridge.

I run past Emiya's house.

I run past the school.

I run up the stairs of Ryuudoji

I run into my room, and my lungs finally give in due to exhaustion.

Puffing and panting I fall onto my bed fading into a vivid oblivion.

* * *

><p>Crying, the sound of me crying wakes me up. I don't understand; I only wanted to be friends but as soon as I saw it I was given a look of such despair and then it disappeared. I couldn't stand the look of pain on its face; after all, I only wanted to be friends. I believed that my intentions were good; therefore what I was doing was also good, but obviously it caused the other party pain and even death. Yes, I remember, that is first time I saw a death and since I don't understand it, I cried like any child would. A gigantic hand pats me on the head but that does not stop the stream flowing from my eyes falling onto the sacred ground. I do not believe that level of love and warmth can comfort me. All the monks always look at me strangely because they don't believe in what I see… It's there; it's really there, the colourful lights,<br>the ephemeral blobs, they all exist right in front of everyone's eyes. The gigantic hands open a  
>lacquered wooden box that looks ancient. Inside is a dusty pair of eyeglasses. They look like nothing special, just a metallic frame with lenses.<p>

"One day you will need those eyes of yours, as no power is given without need. There is a reason you have them, a reason the Ryuudou house inherits them; however, until then I want you to live as normally as you can, so here."

I hinge the pair onto my face and I can longer see those colourful lights or those ephemeral blobs. I do not know how to respond to such an empty world.

Everything seems so alone.

Like Rider sitting alone of a cliff at the edge of the world. The sky is red and anything organic decays here because it seems this is a place close to Hades. The lonely scenery fits her and her eyes. I saw that her eyes make her an existence that can only survive alone. However no one ever wants to be alone. Not by choice.

So in that respect we are different. The me who searched for companionship even at the cost of other's lives, and the her who was forcibly withdrawn for a society that would no longer worship her.

Glasses given to a boy so he does not have to face a reality he does not wish to see.

A blindfold that chained a girl so she could never be able to see again just to protect those that gazed upon her.

I am in no position to say which is worse, but I am sure that each beginning is as sad as the other.

As I slowly fall to consciousness I ponder why I am seeing such visions. This is the first time something like this has happened. The moment I saw those eyes I understood. Is that what she meant by "not human?" It doesn't matter because after seeing that vision I am assured she couldn't have killed all those people. Still… every time she looks at me it seems like she wants to kill me.

* * *

><p>The moment of I wake up a pair of eyes hidden behind glasses meets my eyes also hidden beneath glasses. Square, these irises my eye meets are square.<p>

-Are they beautiful?

I can just see a golden flash of blood-lust in them and her fangs sink into my neck.

That scenario never played out in reality but that result was all my mind could predict while confronting her blood-lust filled eyes.

I want to run.

I want to escape.

She'll kill me even if this is my own room, the room I have lived in all my life.

"Yo," she greets me in a tart voice.

No answer, don't answer, if you answer, if you answer, just don't answer.

"Oh, you were still shocked about yesterday, huh? It's fine, that wasn't me."

Wasn't me, wasn't me?

It must have been you I don't know anyone else that it could have been other than you. I try to assure myself but my dream reverberates.

"There is a vampire in this town."

Her comment is incredulous but absolutely blunt, so blunt that I want to believe her words.

So blunt that I start to believe her words.

"So can you help me? Find it that is?"

I don't have a choice now do I? If I say anything else other than yes…

-she will rip my throat out.

So… I stop my increasingly noisy breathing and nod.

"Ah, that's good after all it'll be good having someone like you as a guide."

Is that all? But why me?

"Well then, I'll meet you at the bottom of the stairs."

And like a bounding gazelle she disappears out the window. From now on I decide to lock my window  
>every night even if it is two stories above the ground.<p>

* * *

><p>I walked down the steep stairs and greeted her then moved. We "patrolled" the town looking for any places this vampire may be. We looked into the school, the parks, and the alleyway. The bodies have become non-existent and all signs of blood have disappeared. The shower of blood I gazed upon seems to only be a fantasy. She looked distastefully at the area. For the whole day we strode around and about town finding nothing until we finally settled on a river-park bench. I look at her delicately eating her store bought dinner and look at my untouched one. Yesterday when I was sipping coffee I was so wary of her, so why have I let my guard down and become so familiar even if she has a sort of bloodlust that not even Tohsaka possessed. She ( ) yesterday ( ) not ( ).<p>

She looks at me and my untouched food.

"You don't believe me do you?" she asks with some concern.

"Huh?" An automated response.

"About the vampire, after all you are just a student, I sure you don't believe vampires even exist."

"Yes, I don't." I admit it without thinking.

"So why are you helping me?" she asks me with a tiny smile.

"I have a friend who was known as the unofficial school janitor, he tries to help anyone no matter what, I guess this time I'm just imitating him."

She looks at me bemused and returns to her food.

We talk about meaningless things; mostly she shares her knowledge of vampires and how they control servants called The Dead that turn to dust and what may be found in a vampire liar.

To end it all I finally ask "Why did we patrol the area, isn't this vampire weak in sunlight so wouldn't he just hide in their lair?"

She nods earnestly with her mouth filled with food then with one gigantic gulp manages to swallow the food in a somewhat dignified manner:

"Good question! Yes they are and that is what they usually do, so essentially we are searching for something that will get us to its lair."

I nod in understanding then, "Wait, if we found the lair were we just going to jump in and attack it?"

"Sure," she replies with absolute conviction.

"Even if you just said that attacking a liar head on is akin to suicide?" I ask incredulously

She taps her glasses, "I got these, remember?" as if that makes everything okay.

The conversation reminds me of the days in the Student Council Room with that orange haired boy, and I am also reminded that he has found what he wants to do whereas I just run errands for the Temple and "study" with no real purpose in mind. One could say I have been floating through life; I have a feeling she is also like that. Maybe that's why after getting to know her I am more comfortable.

With no warning the air shifts and Rider commands me to run on home. She commands in such a harsh  
>way it seems she will kill me if I do not comply. So I run, I run all the way home and collapse in my bed, again. Pathetic is the only word to describe myself.<p>

* * *

><p><span>Interlude<span>

Usually when I think of a bicycle ride with Senpai, I think of a romantic spring eve where I am holding onto him as we take our time passing though the sakura trees that are shedding their bloom into the gentle breeze. I do not expect a ride at breakneck pace where I have to hold onto him, not out of playfulness, but rather for my dear life while he haphazardly dodges random pedestrians. I also do not expect that when we stop that I would be flung out of the seat unless Senpai reached out and grabbed me. Wait… I was expecting that, maybe even hoping for that. However all those romantic ideas are stashed in the corner of my brain because when we arrive at the park beside the river all we can see is the destructive aftermath of a terrifying battle. Trees have been uprooted and the ground has been ripped open by claws. The air smells like blood, but not the blood of a human. After all I know the scent of human blood all too well.

"Rider!" I exclaim and leave the bicycle and race to my friend.

I spot Rider lying on the middle of the field; it seems she has just collapsed. Her glassy eyes under the glasses look at me in almost relief and while opening her mouth she dematerializes for the first time in two years. Before she dematerializes though I am able to make out a wound on her stomach, it's as if a lion plunged its claws into her stomach. Even with the support on Angra Mainyu it'll take about two days to completely heal if she stays dematerialized.

Senpai surveys the area and calls me over to a toppled tree. There is a gigantic dent in the previously sturdy trunk as if someone was thrust into it at a high speed. Blood drops decorate the lower half and I realize that the enemy Rider was fighting also received a severe wound to the stomach.

Senpai looks at me with worry and we head back to the bicycle. Rider had been out for the whole day, but it wasn't for work since today was her day off. Mid-way during dinner I felt an increase in her prana usage. Instantly Senpai and I left the house to search for her. As we leave the scene of the battle with uneasy feelings about the future I wonder about Rider's final words before she dematerialized.

"Iss…" She was unable to say the whole word.

I must question her about it when she wakes up, but first we must tell the priest what passed this spring night.

Interlude Out

* * *

><p>After I was commanded to run, she told me we were to meet up back at the park. Noticing that she was a whimsical creature and would probably be late I brought a novel with me. Amongst the multitude families that decided to visit the never changing park and river on this sparkling Sunday morning I took a bench all to myself and a spend glorious Sunday in the park reading "The Tale of Genji."<p>

The day grows older and older and older still. In fact it grows so old that the sun goes down. What a way to spend a Sunday, I feel peculiar because I know I should be feeling angry at her for standing me up. Maybe I am relieved at the fact she didn't arrive at all. There is a sense of fear that comes with that sense of comfort she exuberates. The first time I met her no matter how uncomfortable I felt around her, I felt she was beautiful. That is something that has changed with time, the time period known as a day. While reminiscing about the conversation at the café, I sit gazing at the star Andromeda blankly because I can no longer read, when all of a sudden a friend approaches. He warns me that staying out this late is not a great idea with those serial killings going on. It's true, before the scene I saw yesterday there have been five "vampire-like" murders. I think that's who Rider wants to catch, but I do not know her motive, I guess I'll ask her if I ever see her again. I don't know if I ever want to see her again though. I smile gently at the irony in both my statement and his warning. I am the one who usually warns him about these things. He leaves with his arms laden with groceries refusing the help that I offer him.

Holding my book I also return home. My life has been ordinary; the only dramas that I have been through are those annual school budget wars with Tohsaka, that fox. I try not to believe I hated her, I just hated her way of life if that is any different. I absent-mindedly walk and then…

the smell of iron fills my lungs. Instead of running away from it this time; I run towards it.

My eyes behold the same sight as yesterday, a ritual so ancient that it transcends the era of humans, yet I find it disgusting. That just proves I am still a human and this isn't something a human should behold. She turns her head to me and takes off those glasses. Something gilt sparkles for a second and I feel like I have become stone. I am petrified. There is no point trying to move because I know I am unable to move.

She disappears from sight and the same instant I take notice that she had disappeared she hits me over the head. I tumble and my body crashes onto the concrete ground. Just before my consciousness fades I admire how beautiful the crisp, alabaster pages look curling in the pool of blood. The image fits her; the image of Rider sipping coffee with a book in hand looks so peaceful, so peaceful that it makes me cascade into darkness.

* * *

><p>I awake with a start. A dank, flat smell fills the air. A cold and hard feeling seeps up my back. It's cold; it's really cold under this freezing, starry sky, which is really strange because it'll be summer soon. I am not panicking, I feel calm, almost, even after being kidnapped by a vampire serial killer and about to be killed while tied up tombstone in the foreigners cemetery. Perhaps I am calm because I know that Rider<br>would not do such a thing. Huh? Did I think 'would'? I meant could not. It is impossible for Rider to do something like that. How do I know?

How do I know?

I don't but-

-after seeing that image of her sitting on a cliff at the edge of the world…

I want to believe in her so I can believe in myself.

Hmmm, even if it's for selfish reasons that is my answer.

A bullet-like shadow leaps and facing me again is a pair of square eyes underneath a pair of glasses.

I can never get tired of that look, but I start panicking, hopefully I don't show it.

Because with one swift motion she slashes my throat.

No, with one swift motion she slashes the rope.

There is no blood-lust on her face but there exists a rage, she's really angry, so angry that

-I thought she slashed my neck.

"Leave." She hisses; her one word bites at my already uncomfortable psyche.

"Ah," Feebly.

"Leave, go back home." Rage, it seems she's ready to rip my head off, that sort of blind rage.

I intensely look into her glasses with my own and from the bottom of my heart, "Thank you, thank you for helping me, really, I appreciate it."

She looks at me in a funny way; it seems she's almost embarrassed.

I start to leave, slowly at first.

"Leave quickly," She mumbles in an undertone.

I start to feel so uncomfortable that I run, quickly.

* * *

><p>I run through the shopping town with the televisions blaring the breaking new, but I am so entranced with my own thoughts I barely take notice.<p>

Once upon a time I viewed myself as weak. I was dead compared to him who tried to save everyone. I think I was attracted to him because he was weak, but he tried to save bodies anyway as if driven by a curse. It was while travelling through those golden school years with him that I found what I lacked and am still lacking today. Something that you cannot take in, something you are given, the reason some shine brightly and others weakly splutter, a common belief in Shinto.

That train of thought abruptly spots as I reach the Temple. There is something unearthly tonight and I want to run away. The blue, blue moon flashes crimson just for a second, and I shake my head to no avail. Even if it was just a hallucination, the blue moon smeared with crimson seems so sacred, yet so…

I run up the stairs, I sprint because I know that a terrible premonition will turn into a terrible reality, so I need to reach the top before something…

-a pain like a white, hot brand.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it really really hurts it hurts so much that black my eyes no longer work.

I start to fall but I rotate my flailing arms as a way of defiance hoping to land a blow on an enemy I can no longer see. The desperate flail amounts to nothing except that my glasses fall from my face into my shirt pocket. I wish I could have seen that, but I had already fallen into darkness, again.

* * *

><p>Twice in a day, I have been knocked out twice in a day. A swelling begins on the back of my head and I seem out of it. My head is swirling but I don't feel anything. However I am able to see everything. Everything is a vague word but it is the only word that describes what I see. Whether it be spiritual or<br>material I see it. It is as if hundreds or thousands of worlds overlap and

-my head throbs, it throbs because humans were not meant see everything. Humans can only live inside a box; to live outside that box is to die. Now I can see every box that ever existed.

A voice cuts through those boxes and falls into my ears.

"I'm here to save you." A mocking high-pitched voice.

I stay completely silent, strangely I feel completely calm because I know what this is.

A claw comes at my chest and my mouth drips blood, drips, drips. The claws that enter my chest gouge the flesh from the skin. The imposter's tone of voice is insane and stunned.

"Why didn't it damage the soul?"

I do not comprehend the words coming from the unseen mouth mean because know I will die, and when you know you will die, the thought of death takes precedence over everything else.

My cheek is slapped by a claw. A slap but because it was with claw cannot be called a slap it's feel like more of a gouge.

"Speak when asked human."

"Then why did you go to all the trouble capturing me when your servants could have done it?"

That earns me another slap on the other cheek; it bleeds more than it swells.

"I gazed upon her walking with you down the street and her ferocity captivated me; she was like a predator in a world of prey. She is one of us, yet why was she living with you humans, even more so why was she walking with you? She was clinging to a mere human." She spat the last word.

I laugh, I completely lose it and I laugh, I do not know if it's because my mind is slowly breaking down or because I find her words completely hilarious, I just laugh. I laugh so hard that my eyes become wells.

"You're mistaken, there is no way she'd be interested in someone like me. I'm just some random person on the street your goddess bumped into."

"If you are just "some person" why did she save you at the graveyard?" She shuts me up coldly.

O, so that was her. She was the one that told me to go home, this imposter knew, but it's so elaborate, why would the imposter go all the way to luring her to the graveyard only to lure her back here?

A sudden flash goes through my mind. Click, click, click, I can actually feel the puzzle pieces in my mind falling together. Who is who, it's not that hard, I just never trusted my instinct.

The voice in the darkness grows silent for a while then finally breaking through the ice-cold silence:

"Finally, You have arrived," she declares as the lights are switched on in this room with scribbles on the wall.

I cannot tell them apart, both are wearing that same black turtleneck and blue jeans, both have glasses and the same visage, both are unarmed, and both are snarling at each other. The expression on their face is fierce yet it betrays no other emotion than that. They are prepared to kill each other.

When the staring match draws to a close, fists and legs start to pummel each other, the speed, the delicacy of these two boxers is superhuman. I start to feel dizzy but I notice that they are even because one has a wound on her stomach. I have no idea if she is the vampire or Rider but I know she is the superior one. Telling them apart is the final puzzle and the final clue has yet to be unveiled. I have worked everything out except for that.

The first time I met Rider was the vase incident, she was also the one killing on that alley-way that evening. She was killing the imposter's servants that night, which is why no bodies were found the next day. On Saturday I spent the whole day with the impostor and on Sunday saw her feeding in the alleyway. I was knocked out but I know she was the impostor because "dead bodies found in Shinto". And like the impostor said before, the one that saved me from the graveyard was Rider. Yes, it all makes sense now, everything works out so…

One moves as a comet streaming though the battlefield. The other moves like a meteor which collides yet endures. No movement is wasted; no feint is without its reply. It is like watching a person fight herself that is how close their fighting styles are. This is a sight I will never see again, yet sadly I begin the feel the dizziness take over me, but I must endure, endure to the moment where I have to change everything because if I just run in blindly now, nothing will be solved, at least I must find out who is who before I run in blindly. Luckily enough, I am lucid enough to untie the knots on the ropes binding me. It seems this vampire only knows one knot. Too bad I am not a person who makes the same mistake twice.

A bounding leap is met with a sliding dive. These actions are executed in unison, yet contrast each other so much that I smile inappropriately at the irony. It seems opposites attract, well, at least some people are attracted to their opposite's and from watching this fight others are evidently not.

After the current flurry of blows from both sides have been blocked or parried the pair of fighters stop and stand, gathering breath. The air in this dusty room turns stale as if an essential part of air's makeup  
>has been sucked up. The fainter boxes of existence are crushed by the sudden absence of this substance.<br>In a second this world has become a little drearier and greyer, then in one graceful, inhuman, motion that seems as ancient as the great tragedies themselves, both remove their glasses, one because she must bare her eyes to activate her divine mystery, the other is simply trying to deceive me.

In this split second before the climax I remember that my father once told me one day I would need these eyes. One day these mystic eyes would be necessary to the existence known as Ryuudou Issei but until then I should just live a normal life. I never expected that day would be today, but is today any better than tomorrow or yesterday? The memory of the despairing spirit comes back to mind and I realized my father loved me very much, so much that he wished to shield me from the realities that one day would be revealed to me no matter what, but I don't need that paternal cocoon anymore because I have no regrets. I am doing this from someone I treasure from the bottom of my heart. Even if you only met her two days ago? I shake those ominous out of my head. It doesn't matter when I met her, I thought she was beautiful and that was something I believed was worth living for. That's right, something that transcends death. I deeply want to live for her, not die for her. That is my resolve, so thanks for everything father and like you said I've found my path even if I haven't found my destination. I'm one step closer to that orange haired boy who wished to save everyone no matter what. I'm one step closer to the girl who sits at the edge of cliff at the edge of the world. This monologue has gone on for too long and I have nothing more to say so with that the grey world that I stopped accelerates into action.

A flash of gold compared to a flash of a kaleidoscope of colours and I know. Because I know I run and stand with my arms spread out my gaze slashes the unwounded vampire's golden eyes with square irises.

There is no way I could mistake Rider's eyes, they are not gold, not a brilliant extravagant colour that melts anything, but rather a jewel, something cold, hard, precious, yet so fragile, a piece of rock that has been tempered over the eons by the pressure of the earth itself. Even if one day I will forget everything about Rider, I will never forget the eternity and the weight in those eyes.

You lost the moment you revealed your eyes to me

-because they will never compare to hers.

"We talked about this didn't we?" I tell the vampire condescendingly. "How vampires can use their eyes to control others "Mystic Eyes of Enchantment" you called them?"

Crap, I'm losing consciousness.

The vampire only snarls me and her claw glows blue for an instant.

My gaze slices it and all the scribbles in the room fade.

"What!" The vampire grows frightened "What are you?"

"Ryuudou Issei, a student." I calmly assert.

"You…HOW DID YOU DO THAT?" The confusion warps her already distorted face into an even more unearthly form.

"You could have killed her at the graveyard, so why did you make her come here? We talked about this as well, remember? A vampire's lair is made for offense not defense, so seriously you shouldn't talk so much about what you are going to do while undercover. I don't understand what those scribbles do but I know they can kill us and that blue light… it's the activation right? Sort of like the fuse of a bomb."

Blood-lust, there is no rage or anger from the vampire because when the human became the vampire it lost those human emotions. Her face distorts even further to a primordial state and she sinks her claws into my chest pulling me close to her. I've been turned into a living shield. Fresh blood drips from the wound and it hurts, it really does but I am prepared for this, she licks my blood while Rider cannot do anything. Her body bubbles and bursts, that's the only way to describe it and then

-a fantasy shatters.

I am cast aside in pain and fall to the ground in a thump. I knew it; this only proved my hypothesis to myself. The reason that I was so comfortable around her. Her? It should be called a he. Green-coloured hair, wide eyes, accented nose and sharp chin. Many would call him handsome in a reptilian way. His green robe makes him look like a chameleon. I guess that is what he really was; a creature that takes on the identity of others and blends into the environment waiting for its prey. He tried to become me, the activation was when he licked my blood. He seems to need the DNA of the creature he copies so he probably took one of Rider's stray hairs while on the street. Too bad he still hadn't figured out that my eyes destroy all magecraft when the magecraft is activated, that's how Rider described them anyway.

In his moment of shock after having his illusion broken, Rider charges at him, but her wrist is grabbed by the vampire.

"So beautiful." He whispers.

Rider makes a split second decision, one that fills her face with such angst that I cannot even comprehend her pain.

Even with my blood-stained eyes I can see them: fangs, claws, a distorted face that looks bestial and unearthly. Rider turns into a killer. Her jewel-like eyes are blood red and the roar she makes… it's so full of emotion, but an emotion I am unable to comprehend.

"BEST, YOU ARE THE BEST…RIDER, YOU MAY EVEN BE BETTER THAN MY MASTER!" The vampire screams as the fist he was holding goes through his gut.

He retreats, his back against a wall, and I believe it, I believe everything he said about vampires, why? Because his stomach is healing… rather than healing it is more like warping through time back to when he was freshly baptized as a vampire.

Swiftly without hesitation even if her enemy is right in front of her Rider goes on all fours like a leopard ready to pounce on her prey and then her eyes shimmer. At that moment I understand them. Even if I am on the brink of fainting, no maybe because I am on the brink of fainting, my eyes up the stream of thaumaturgy until I reach petrification. Normal petrification magecraft recreates the miracle by using the minerals in one's body or uses the environment to make something stone. Five ways of how to do so are delivered straight to my mind, however I not have the circuitry required to do so. I keep following the stream until I find Rider's petrification. It is more of similar to a Conceptual Weapon. I have no idea what that means and I have never heard of it until now but I know. Her eyes write the concept of "stone" onto one's soul, so unlike the vampire's Mystic Eyes of Enchantment that enchanted me to "feel like I have become stone and therefore forgo all movement because I believed so in all levels of consciousness I have become stone," Cybele actually turns one into solid stone as long as one has a soul.

A flash.

The vampire becomes stone, the fact has been written on his soul.

A break.

However, to overwrite such a weak invasion of the soul like so all you have to do is…

-I paddle further up the stream of thaumaturgy

Oh yes, run prana through your magic circuits, quite a bit of prana if these numbers mean what I think they do, but again I do not understand what either of the terms "prana" and "magic circuit" mean but that is the solution and probably what the vampire is doing right now.

However even he is too slow because even if you run "prana" through your "magic circuits" the concept is being repeatedly signed onto the soul so one has to constantly wash their soul with "prana". This pressure allows a raging Rider to instantly crush his neck, grotesquely break his back, thoroughly puncture his lung, mercilessly crush his head, and then finally crush his heart. She completely tears the body apart with brute strength that surpasses the limits of human and turns each individual part of body into stone. This is only possible because his body parts are "observing" her through touch. Cybele only turns to stone when one "observes" Medusa or when Medusa observes her target. She then systematically crushes the stone into dust ensuring his death is complete. A ghostly wind howls as the caged soul finally is able to break through the body. I can only see it because of these eyes and I can only hear it because of these eyes but its last words tell of a terrible vengeance that will before us in the name of his Master, his parent vampire.

However I do not care about the future because at the present there is no vestige of sanity left in those eyes I once admired so much and no matter where I paddle I cannot find a way to…

She looks at my blank eyes…

I…

She turns and runs.

I chase.

I was wrong. I realize the reason why I was so captivated with her in the first place, yes, when I think about it I was so entranced from the first time I saw her that I accepted a request to go vampire hunting with a vampire serial killer that decided to take her appearance. And even in this monstrous form of her's where her hair has turned into a nest of snakes, her canine teeth fully grew into fangs that look like tusks and with her alabaster very lighted freckled with bronze scales I am chasing after her even if I am about to faint. I'm very sure a normal person would rather be screaming and running away from this sight that was built as a weapon of the World to eradicate humanity.

So.

Why.

Am.

I…

I realize that we are nothing alike; I do not think she is beautiful because her existence is close to mine any more.

A girl sitting alone at the edge of the world to escape persecution.

A boy taking glasses that serve as a blindfold to escape reality.

Our origins may be the same; however, even when she was confronted with events she couldn't accept…

-She ran straight at them

-I ran away from them.

when someone like me was in trouble and needed help…

-She ran blindly into a graveyard to save him.

-I analyzed the situation until I was sure, then acted accordingly.

so we are not alike at all we are miles apart.

I am just a monkey trying the reach the moon, yet only touching the reflection.

I was chasing after her all this time.

But in chasing that distant back I was able to understand the pain that she carries.

That is why I am going to bridge that gap right now.

To-

She might be fast but she's injured badly so I am able to catch up.

So as soon as I am able to reach out my hand and touch her, I turn her resisting monstrous body and embrace it.

-take part of the heavy burdens that you must carry.

I caught up to you.

But, I'm scared, I'm scared because I'm sure she'll kill me without a thought and death is scary, the despairing spirit showed me how scary death can be. However I can stand it because…

"Rider… I love you." I say so because at this moment there are no impurities mixed with my words.

We have only known each other for three days yet from the first meeting I am sure I have been obsessed with you, possibly even more so than that vampire. So obsessed I wasted a Sunday just waiting for a "you" to appear. One day, my father told me I would have to use these eyes because there was a reason the Ryuudou house inherited them. I know. I know my life ahead will be painful. I know it will be more painful than it was running after you with a blurring consciousness, but…

After trying to command herself to resist she answers: "I am a monster, you know that I may kill you."

If I'm with you I'm sure that it'll be worth it.

Hot crystal droplets that sting like acid sear my shoulder.

"Yes, I know, but it's fine with me."

Yes, it really doesn't matter. I may still have not found my dream but because of you, I have found a way of life that one day will lead me there, so right now I'm satisfied, and for the third and final time this night I fall and fade into darkness; only this time I am lost in your warm embrace.


	11. into Author

into Author

"Ahhh – Well done, you old rapscallion."

Finished reading all eight parts, I close the book with heavy feelings in my heart and raise my face to the sky before letting out a sincere word of thanks.

Too cruel.

Too heavy.

No one reaches salvation at all.

But despite these sacrifices, there are still some sparks of light remaining in our hearts.

Creation and destruction are a pair of twins. Everything was swallowed up in crimson flames and all disappeared with the wind. Yet in the end, a new life budded forth from a desolate battlefield that should only have been left with infinite sorrow.

This light was infinitely small compared to all that had been lost, but it was incomparably nobler as a result. We who can only watch can only feel touched by that light.

SURE, I WISH MY POSTFACE WAS THAT -.-

So here you've reached the end of my story, it's not a happy story, it's not a sad story either, it's a story with an ending that's all. If I have to call it something, I'd call it my Fate. My Fate differs from Nasu's and Gen's undoubtedly it is not a good as either of them, but even if it is sour like an unripe fruit, and even if I may have poured everything that is and will be genuine out of my soul before it has time to mature, I do not regret making that choice. An author who I no longer remember once wrote that when a work is finished, it is never finished rather it feels like as if something essential is missing, a gap it seems which is why writers always purse writing more and more, to fill a gap that cannot be filled by writing, by writing. Well I don't think of myself as writer so I can't exactly empathize but I cannot accept that person's words. She calls this melancholy, but less so than absolute self-flattery. Really? Melancholy, writing yet knowing you cannot be filled by writing is almost like the paradox created by an orange haired boy, right? And what were his words for it? Beautiful. He believed his ideal was beautiful. So I guess I'll believe the same, but that's a gigantic tangent. I know my Fate is not great or stunning, but I feel it a story that should be told; nothing more, nothing less. This isn't a story of the next Holy Grail War nor is it the story of a Parallel Holy Grail War, this is a Fate about motivations and most importantly this is a Fate of how. How one scene, one stage, dropped a hero into darkness and how even among that darkness they found a hint of light, how each of these heroes achieved their Noble Phantasms and at what cost. Now much of what I write is confusing so the rest of this serves as an explanation. After all this is a Fate fanfic so I put Fate cannon above historical cannon.  
>Abrupt End!<p>

into Caster:

My magnum opus starts with Caster because out of all the Servants I love her story. It's filled with so much emotion and well it's Medea after all. Although not in my story Shoichiro is the best Fate character, I mean no one can DISLIKE Shiochiro, but back to topic. The image I started with was red because the girl sitting in front of me in maths class that day was wearing a red hoodie, simple enough. This is a story of how Caster obtained the Rule Breaker never mentioned in the legends. I used the "knife that Medea used to kill her brother," as the model, but that in itself isn't Rule Breaker because you can't actually kill with Rule Breaker, so I expanded it to the sins erased by Circe onto the knife making the Noble Phantasm because Medea is known as a betrayer. As for the rocking the ship, well it comes from the expression "to rock the boat" so hmm. The Caster I tried to portray was one that was trying to love Jason, but… she didn't really love him, but the arrow from Eros made her feel as if she did. Which is why I would say this Caster is a bit Yandere maybe… but she's not a lunatic, and it's not her fault. Her fate has been controlled by the gods since she the day she was born, her becoming a Servant is due to that helpless hate. Heracles in this is just after 9th Labour Heracles so this takes place before "into Beserker" about 4 months maybe? Yes I do know that Heracles leaves the Argonauts like just after setting off but in UBW Tohsaka says HMMM maybe Berserker knows Caster's weak points since they sailed together. NO THEY DID NOT. So yea I kept with the F/SN canon. I included Orpheus just for kicks though and I wanted to milk the Argo of all the characters who would seem sympathetic towards a lonely girl like Medea. With the story of Crete Medea is a sheltered princess, but she's married so… she's kinda innocent I guess? For the Jason is not a warrior part look up Jason's name. I am not going to find the character set Fate uses for Medea's high speed divine casting so I used Greek like most other fanfic writers. I'm not sure you can gather mana from the wood of the Argo but considering the tree it was made from... So in conclusion I would say this is the most me of all my stories. Although it's not my style as I tried to imitate the style of the one who posted this, however I probably failed. Still this story is the one that speaks the most to me. Medea's insane angst is just terrifying and I believe that's what most people would do in her situation. It's really just the outpouring of a girl that wishes to return to happier days.

into Assassin

After the insane trip I did in "into Caster," I wanted to write a more light-novel-esqe story. The most light-novely you can get is… BOY-MEETS-GIRL which is exactly what "into Assassin is." The beginning is obviously taken off the prologue from Tsukihime. Don't judge me for doing that it's just the scene fit my scene perfectly. So how did I come up with this story? Well I didn't want to tell a story about Saskai Kojiro because his not Assassin. Assassin is a wraith that is able to use Tsubame Gaeshi that is all. So what does this wraith have? What is the most important thing to this wraith that cannot remember anything? His one skill that takes on God Itself. So logically if he knows how to use that skill he has to remember where and how he learnt it, and that's this story. Now I thought that the story about trying to kill a swallow was stupid -.- seriously, can you seriously get that bored? So this was my take on that, with a girl called Tsubame who was a psychic and a super strong psychic at that, so I made her too overpowered, shame on me. And then the move Tsubame was something I thought of when thinking why the sword strike is named Tsubame Gaeshi. I associated Assassin with Ryudoji with the Fate Tiger Coliseum drinking sake with friends ending scene. I felt that was appropriate and a valid reason why he was summoned when Ryudoji was used as a catalyst. Finally I must confess the ending to this story is much like Katanagatari, for the reason, that ending seemed to fit so well with this ending. This was Assassin's only memory there is no before, there is no after, therefore it should end like the reader wants it to end. If they want Assassin's story to be a tragedy then so be it. If they want a happy ending so be it. This memory of his is his everything, it's the only proof he had of ever existing so obviously there shouldn't be an afterwards for a before.

into Saber:

An unsure Saber that decides to be proud of her life.

A pure and unsullied Saber.

Both these Sabers have been written about, to write another one using these two Sabers would be redundant. So instead I chose a hopeful yet weary Saber, one that is about the break from all the battles she has fought, but finds the hope to go on. The battle I found that most appropriate is the 12th of the 12 great battles she fought, The Battle of Badon Hill. Also I guess the historic and mythological background intrigued me. Bearing a holy cross? Killing about 900 people single-handedly? How does that fit? I made the Holy Cross into Excalibur and Galentine because I was reminded about Exaclibur being "a line of light" so - + | = + AHA! Then the problem was that she had to "bear" the cross. So I was like -.- she…bore…the deaths… that the cross…brought on? Not a very good explanation but hey. As for setting, this actually has a setting, it's set after the Last Episode, I guess when Shirou and Saber are recounting their stories to each other, or something like that. The tone of this story is set probably by the Fate anime ending song, Anata Ita ga Mori, I love the way how that song starts, a wistful fey tone that turns more and more powerful. That's the tone I tried to convey. A weary Saber who starts to doubt herself only to find the power to keep on going in her ideal utopia may not be, well normal but it it's what I had.

into Lancer:

When people think of Lancer it's always:

"His guy that I want to be my bro."

"If I'm in a fight, I want him to have my back."

Yea, that's true, but in looking at this legend I couldn't help feel that there was an exaggeration of his machoism and that sort of made me perplexed. He did a lot of sad things in his life, he killed his best friend, he killed his son, but he was satisfied with his life and only chased the Holy Grail because he wanted greater fights. So I can only say that there was something supporting him throughout his life, more like something. Meh, I really can't see Lancer as a romantic guy after Ataraxia, but he does work at a flower-shop so he MUST KNOW SOMETHING. The main problem with this is the timeline. In Ataraxia, Lancer kills his best friend then kills his own son. In the epics he kills his own son then kills his best friend. So again I went with the Fate version of events. And yea, I made Lancer's "son" a daughter. Why? Inno I always saw Lancer's son, Connla, as a daughter. A son that is in the shadow of his father may do all that he did, however it seems more likely that a daughter is more fitting. Lancer wanted a son, so this daughter would try to do everything to become that son. Well that's what I think; after all she was also under that gigantic shadow. So yea. As for my rune system -.- Whatever, I don't know Type-moon's rune system well enough from just one spell from Kara and a drawing in the UBW movie, so basically English to Gaelic dictionary and a website about runes. However knowing those runes and what they mean and those words as well is central to the fight. Finally why I did Lugh's story. I guess I wanted to juxtaposition, Lancer's life compared to Lugh's life and how they are different. Yea decided Lugh would have Mystic Eyes of Death Perception because of a conversation with my brother, who knows nothing about Type-moon, about how David killed Goliath. I guess a giant killing Noble Phantasm would have worked but so would Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. Since Lugh was Baldor's grandson he probably would have had the Perception kind not the Death kind considering how close Lugh got to death. So Lancer being Lugh's son would have the potential as well. Baldor's daughter probably was born with Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, the very reason he locked her up in a tower which makes sense as Touko said if you want to stop Shiki lock her up in a box of concrete, not in a sealed off dimension. So hmmm.

into Berserker

If "into Caster" was the most me, this story is definitely my favorite and the hardest write. In even I am unsure who the protagonist is, the princess of the Gods or Heracules hmmmm. Well that's up to you. As for the Princess of the Gods, I will leave that to the reader's interpretation, it's not that hard to work out if you know your Heracles. When I was writing this I was reading Faulker, so his style seeped into this story about a mad warrior. The italics represent A NEW SPEAKER, nothing more, it's up to the reader to determine who the speaker is though. In this story I really wanted to bypass the image he has in history, the super buff awesome womanizer that doesn't care about anyone except himself. I guess I think of him more as a family man from his portrayal in Fate. I used Synochronizers in this well because how else did Heracles not kill his family early. I made Megara like Hisui, I don't know why I did so, maybe because Kohaku as Heracles wife would be like -.- wtf. Finally I'll address the most serious issue I had with this story, THE BLANTANT RIP OFF KARA NO KYOUKAI, yea, but again I felt it was so relevant to what I had in mind, the Princess of Gods is a god that has flown and floated all her life that she doesn't understand that people have the option of falling. Something that is eternal cannot understand something that is limited and vice-versa, but in the end she does to some degree understand what "limited life" really means. While I'm confessing my references, I would also say Kratos standing over a cliff about to jump really inspire the setting. But the insanity of this story really portrays turbulent state of mine, in my opinion anyway.

into True Assassin:

Umineko, yea in writing a story about brothers and reaching a goal, I instantly thought of the "ten nights to get to the golden capital" idea that Rosa gave out. Interweaving memories a mix of past and present is really confusing so I made a timeline.

It may not show up on this site but I did make one.

Other than that there is nothing much I need to explain maybe except for the Counter- Guardian thing. So Hassan's brother is a living Counter-Guardian, like when Shirou in between making a deal with the world and dying. Anyway Hassan's brother's mission is to destroy the inherent reality marble because it threatens the "world," however Hassan's brother's feelings go in the way, etc and eventually Hassan kills a Counter Guardian but his own fate is unknown and that's the way I want to keep it.

into Rider

The most how story in my opinion. I always felt weird about why the Blood Fortress was called Andromeda, and I wondered about Andromeda's life before she became Persus' wife. So here is my take on that. I have decided to not elaborate on Medusa's crime, in Fate she displeased Athena, in mythology she got raped in Athena's temple, all we should really know is that she commit some sort of "crime" that she felt was not a crime. The rest is self-explanatory maybe except for the end. After Andromedea returned Medusa sent a message in a bottle after each stage of evolution as a Gorgon. So when the 87th message reached Medusa, probably took about a year at the earliest to even get to where Andromeda lived. And since the oceans are that wide it was probably one in like a billion, no a trillion that the message would have even made it to that place. But you know… So I guess the thing that doesn't make sense in this story is how Andromeda gets married to Persus. I guess it's out of duty more than anything. That's really all I can say. So I'm not sure if this ending can be treated as happy… but it's an ending with fulfillment.

into Archer:

The final story and it's the final one because I didn't really have any ideas for this one till I was writing "into Rider." Well the main difference between this and all the other into's is there is no fighting, obviously and it's the most confusing of them all. This is my take on how Shirou became Archer. I am sure my version is not the cannon version but… it fits. So we know that Shirou asked the World to save people after a natural disaster. We also know that Kiritsugu put explosives in Mt Enzo hoping to destroy the Holy Grail War. LINK THEM TOGETHER. I mean seriously I sure Shirou would ask the world to save those that lived in Fuyuki. The largest flaw in my logic is how Kiritsugu said it'd explode in forty years so that means thirty years after Fate. Welp I was like hmm Archer is about 25-29, Shirou is like 17 so give him so time I guess he made a pledge to the world at age 20? So that's what I went with. As for the whole despair over Ilya dying I did a "pilgrimage to England" atonement thing so yea. The second largest flaw in the prana fountain thing, I give credit to first season of Shakugan for that, Fountain of Power of Existence, Fountain of Prana, hmmm. The main problem is that prana is colorless unless there is a container so I assumed that ley lines are basically magic circuits, but for earth. And the only example of magic circuits that Type-moon gives are Shirou's and they are green, therefore the green colour in this story is due to this. The hardest thing about writing this is well Archer's past is the future of Fate, and that always brings so much debate about how and what, so I didn't really like writing this one, too much stress and trying to make things coherent and everything like that. Finally the Avalon thing at the end is really a link to the Last Episode which doesn't make sense. All I'm trying to say is that UBW is part of Shirou, Avalon is a part of Shirou as well. THEREFORE if one can cross the infinite wasteland (which is really impossible) then can reach Avalon where Saber is waiting (metaphorically), so doing so I try to explain the "waiting forever" and "pursing forever" stuff in the Last Episode. IT'S ALL SYMBOLIC.

into Another:

My own story, based of Alliance. Type-moon is really formulaic. MOTHERSHIP-FANDISC-MINISTORY-FIGHTING GAME. I noticed that Fate does not have that mini story that is known as "Alliance of the Illusionary Eyes." But more importantly this story is the prequel to the next story I am going to write. This story is set a month of two after HF epilogue and it's a love story in essence between Issei and Rider. WHAT AN INSANE PAIRING. Well they both have glasses for one so I was like HMMMMM and even in Ataraxia which says Rider likes Shirou, Shirou does not have feelings for Rider. SO THERE. Again I seemed to have made Issei way overpowered but the inspiration for his Mystic Eyes comes from I think it's Shirou saying that the Emiya Boundary Field is more "human" than the Tohsaka one. So that got me thinking WHAT IF A BOUNDARY FIELD IS SO HUMAN that it affects those born and living inside it. Especially if their eyes are . No spoilers. But I will let on that Issei's Mystic Eyes are green. So what's that classification on the Mystic Eye colour thing? The chameleon vampire thing will also be kinda significant maybe. O yea "Dead Bodies Found In Shinto," that was seriously hard to fit in that paragraph.

Well that about covers everything, if you want further explanations just ask, I'll try to answer them as much as possible. As for the WHERE'S GILGAMESH question; Fate/into Darkness is about the servants summoned in the 5th Holy Grail War and Gilgamesh was summoned in the 4th.

So thanks for reading


End file.
